c-> 

F~> 


J»          E- 

a  =  5! 

5    S  ^J 


&        y< 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA 
CHRISTMAS 


THIRD  EDITION 


NOW     BETTY    KNEW    EXACTLY    HOW    TO    DESCEND    THE    STAIRS    INTO    THE 
DANCING    HALL 

Page  46 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA 
CHRISTMAS 


By 

MOLLY  ELLIOT  SEAWELL 

AUTHOR   or  "THE   SPBIOHTLT    ROMANCE    OF   MARSAC,"   "PAPA 
BOUCHARD,"  "THE  JUGGLERS,"  "LITTLE  JARVIS,"  ETC. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  IN  COLOR  BY 

HENRY  J.  SOULEN 

AND  DECORATIONS  BY 
EDWARD  STRATTON  HOLLOWAY 


PHILADELPHIA  &  LONDON 
J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

1914 


COPYRIGHT,    1913,    BT  J.    B.    LIPPINCOTT   COMPANY 
COPTBIGHT,    1914.   BY   J.   B.    LIPPINCOTT   COMPANT 


PUBLISHED  SEPTEMBER,   1914 


PRINTED   BY  J.   B.   LIPPINCOTT   COMPANT 

AT  THE  WASHINGTON  SQUARE  PRESS 

PHILADELPHIA,   U.S.A. 


Stack 


TO  BETTY  RANDOL 

A    TALL   SISTER   OP  THE   LILIES 
THIS     BOOK    IS    INSCRIBED 


2075554 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTEB  PAGE 

I.  CAPTIVATING  BETTY 9 

II.  A  YOUNG  SOLDIER 19 

III.  THROUGH  A  DORMER  WINDOW 31 

IV.  KETTLE 38 

V.  CHRISTMAS  COMES  BUT  ONCE  A  YEAR 46 

VI.  KETTLE  AND  OTHER  THINGS 64 

VII.    FORTESCUE   AND   ROSES   AND    BlRDSEYE 71 

VIII.  THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  PAST 83 

IX.   LOVE   AND  THE   CHASE 89 

X.  THE  FLYING  FEET  OF  THE  DANCERS 96 

XI.  THE  DREAM  OF  LOVE 105 

XII.  KETTLE  ACTS  His  OWN  ILIAD 110 

XIII.  IT  WAS  THE  SPRINGTIME 119 

XIV.  PROBLEMS 130 

XV.  THE  BROKEN  DREAM 138 

XVI.  PRIDE  PAYS  THE  PRICE 150 

XVII.  THE  HAND  OF  DESTINY 166 

XVIII.  "DOAN'  You  CRY,  Miss  BETTY!" 173 

XIX.  CALM  WEATHER 179 

XX.  TWILIGHT 185 

XXI.  RECOMPENCE 189 

XXII.  GLORIA 198 

XXIII.  SUNSHINE..                                                          .  206 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Now  BETTY  KNEW  EXACTLY  How  TO  DESCEND  THE 
STAIRS  INTO  THE  DANCING  HALL Frontispiece 

HER  GRACEFUL  FIGURE  MAKING  TO  FORTESCUE  THE 
PRETTIEST  PICTURE  HE  HAD  EVER  SEEN 87 

THE  SCENT  LAY  ACROSS  THE  OPEN  FIELDS  AND  STRAG- 
GLING WOODLANDS 93 

"BUT  IF  You  LOVE  ME "...  .  125 


CHAPTER  I 
CAPTIVATING  BETTY 

IT  was  as  cold  as  Christmas,  and  Christmas 
Eve  it  was.  A  thin  crust  of  snow  lay  over 
the  level  landscape  of  lower  Virginia,  and 
the  declining  sun  cast  a  lovely  rose-red  light 
upon  the  silver  world.  Afar  off  lay  the  river 
that  led  to  the  great  bay,  both  river  and  bay 
frozen  hard  and  fast  as  steel.  The  crystal 
air  was  sharp  and  still,  and  in  the  opaline  sky 
a  little  crescent  moon  smiled  at  the  sparkling 
stars.  Along  the  broad  lane  that  led  from  the 
wooded  heights  to  the  spacious  brick  man- 
sion of  Rosehill,  seated  on  the  river  bank,  a 
great  four-horse  team  trotted  merrily,  the 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

stout  farm-horses  snorting  with  delight,  and 
the  negro  driver  and  his  helpers  laughing, 
and  singing  Christmas  catches,  their  voices 
echoing  in  the  clear,  cold  air.  The  Eosehill 
mansion  itself  seemed  to  radiate  Christmas 
cheer.  From  the  warm,  wide-throated  chim- 
neys curled  delicate  wreaths  of  blue  smoke, 
and  a  venturesome  peacock  had  climbed  upon 
the  flat  roof  and  stood  on  one  leg,  warming 
himself  comfortably  against  the  hot  chimney. 
The  panes  of  the  many  windows  glittered  in 
the  sinking  sun,  and  on  the  frozen  river  a 
couple  of  skaters  flew  back  and  forth  like 
birds  upon  the  wing,  their  shrill  little  cries 
and  laughter  resounding  gaily  in  the  crisp 
cold. 

A  mile  down  the  river  lay  another  cheerful 
homestead,  not  stately  and  wide  and  long, 
with  marble  steps  and  a  fine  carriage  drive, 
like  Eosehill,  but  little  and  low  and  with  a 
single  chimney.  No  gorgeous  peacock  hud- 
dled against  its  one  chimney,  but  a  family  of 
blue  pigeons,  finding  the  pigeon-cote  chilly, 
circled  about  the  solitary  chimney,  and  were 
as  merry  as  if  they  had  been  great  splendid 
peacocks  instead  of  the  humble  little  birds 
that  they  were.  The  tall  holly  trees  in  all 
their  Christmas  glory  of  red  and  green,  on 
each  side  of  the  little  porch,  gave  the  place  its 
name  of  Holly  Lodge.  From  its  windows, 
10 


CAPTIVATING  BETTY 

too,  streamed  cheerfulness,  and  a  golden  fire 
sang  and  danced  upon  the  broad  hearth  in  its 
one  small  sitting-room.  But  Holly  Lodge 
could  not  be  otherwise  than  gay,  because  in 
it  dwelt  Betty  Beverley,  the  gayest  young 
creature  alive. 


Now,  Betty  had  a  splendid  dowry ;  that  is 
to  say,  she  had  youth,  health,  gaiety  of  heart, 
an  indomitable  spirit,  and  a  pair  of  the 
softest,  loveliest,  most  misleading  dark  eyes 
that  were  ever  seen.  Betty  was  the  soul  of 
sincerity  and  truth,  yet  she  was  also  an  arrant 
hypocrite  and  flatterer  to  those  she  loved. 
Likewise,  she  had  the  heart  of  a  lion  concern- 
ing burglars,  tramps,  runaway  horses,  and 
dangers  of  all  sorts;  but  when  it  came  to 

11 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

caterpillars  and  daddy-long-legs,  small 
spiders  and  frightened  mice,  Betty  was  cow- 
ardly beyond  words,  and  shrieked  and  fled 
at  the  mere  sight  of  those  harmless  creatures. 
Music  and  dancing  were  like  foretastes  of 
Heaven  to  Betty,  who  could  dance  twenty-five 
miles  a  night  without  the  slightest  fatigue. 
But  she  was  the  same  gay  little  Betty  in  the 
long  wintry  days  at  Holly  Lodge,  with  no  one 
for  company  except  her  grandfather,  Colonel 
Beverley,  and  his  rheumatism,  and  Uncle 
Cesar  and  his  wife,  Aunt  Tulip,  the  two  old 
servants  who  had  followed  them  into  exile. 


For  Colonel  Beverley  was  born  and  reared  iu 
the  great  house  of  Rosehill,  and  Betty,  too, 
was  born  there,  and  had  passed  the  whole  of 


12 


CAPTIVATING  BETTY 

her  short  life  in  its  stately  rooms  and  its  old 
walled  garden,  except  the  last  year.  Evil 
times  had  come  upon  Colonel  Beverley,  and 
the  piled  up  mortgages  at  last  drove  him 
forth.  The  Colonel,  tall  and  straight  as  an 
Indian,  grim  to  look  at,  but  gentle  at  heart, 
said  truly  that  for  himself  he  minded  not 
Holly  Lodge,  with  its  few  cramped  rooms 
and  its  mite  of  a  garden  patch;  but  for  little 

Betty Here,  the  Colonel's  voice  would 

break,  and  whenever  this  point  was  reached 
in  the  discussion,  Betty  always  rushed  at  the 
Colonel  and  kissed  him  all  over  his  hand- 
some clear-cut,  pallid  face,  and  declared  that 
he  had  insulted  her  by  his  hateful  remarks, 
and  that  she  would  a  thousand  times  rather 
live  at  Holly  Lodge  with  him,  than  live  at 
Eosehill  with  millions  of  dollars,  without  him. 
As  Betty  was  very  young  and  unsophisti- 
cated, she  really  believed  this,  and  it  com- 
forted the  Colonel's  weary  heart  to  hear  it. 

This  was  their  first  Christmas  at  Holly 
Lodge,  but  as  Betty  said  to  the  Colonel  on 
the  afternoon  of  Christmas  Eve: 

"Granddaddy,  I  mean  this  to  be  the  very 
happiest  Christmas  we  ever  had,  because  we 
are  together,  and  your  rheumatism  is  better, 
and  I  am  going  to  a  dance  every  night  this 
week,  and  have  a  perfectly  brand  new  white 
muslin  gown  to  wear,  and  goodness  knows 

is 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

what  will  be  left  of  it  after  six  dances,  because 
I  never  really  begin  to  enjoy  myself  until  I 
have  torn  my  gown  all  to  pieces !" 

While  Betty  was  saying  this,  she  was  stand- 
ing, delicately  poised,  on  a  table,  putting  a 
wreath  of  laurel  leaves  around  the  portrait 
of  Colonel  Beverley,  taken  in  his  youth,  when 
he  was  a  boy  officer,  with  his  first  epaulets, 
his  hand  sternly  grasping  his  sword.  Above 
the  portrait  hung  the  same  sword,  and  Betty 
was  wont  to  decorate  the  hilt  with  a  sprig  of 
laurel,  too.  The  portrait  was  a  handsome 
picture,  and  the  Colonel  was  secretly  proud 
of  it.  A  part  of  Betty's  outrageous  flattery 
of  Colonel  Beverley  was  that  to  assure  the 
Colonel,  solemnly,  that  nothing  would  induce 
her  to  marry  until  she  could  find  a  man  as 
handsome  as  he  was  in  his  youth.  The  Colo- 
nel, sitting  in  his  great  chair,  listened  to 
this  for  the  hundredth  time  with  the  greatest 
pleasure.  Since  that  St.  Martin's  summer  of 
his  youth,  there  had  been  a  long  period  of 
tranquil  life  at  Rosehill.  Then  had  come  the 
great  tragedy  of  the  wartime,  and  Colonel 
Beverley  had  put  on  a  gray  uniform,  and 
ridden  at  the  head  of  the  regiment  the  county 
raised,  his  stalwart  son.  Betty's  father, 
riding  by  his  bridle  The  Colonel  came  back 
in  four  vears  to  Rosehill .  but  the  voting  son 
lay  buried  on  the  Bed  of  Honor,  with  a  bullet 

14 


CAPTIVATING  BETTY 

through  his  brave  young  heart.  Betty  was  a 
dark-eyed  baby  girl  in  those  days.  Now,  she 
was  a  dark-eyed  girl  of  twenty,  and  was  all 
the  Colonel  had  left  in  this  world.  Even  Rose- 
hill  went  with  the  rest.  The  back  of  Colonel 
Beverley 's  chair  was  against  the  window 
which  looked  toward  Rosehill,  for  the  Colonel 
was  sixty-eight,  and  could  not  forget  wholly 
the  sixty-seven  years  when  Eosehill  had  been 
his  home,  and  did  not  like  to  look  toward  the 
place.  To  make  it  worse,  Bosehill  had  been 
bought  by  some  rich  Northern  people,  who 
had  wickedly  and  sacrilegiously,  as  the  Colo- 
nel considered,  put  a  furnace  in  the  house, 
electric  lights  and  many  other  modern  and 
devilish  inventions,  which  harrowed  the  Colo- 
nel's soul.  So,  like  a  wise  man,  he  turned 
his  eyes  away. 

Within  the  plain  little  room  were  some 
relics  that  had  survived  the  universal  wreck. 
There  was  Betty's  harp,  to  which  she  sang  the 
old-fashioned  ballads  the  Colonel  loved. 
Then,  there  was  the  Beverley  punch-bowl — a 
great  bowl  of  old  Lowestoft  porcelain,  with 
three  medallions,  representing  hunting 
scenes,  and  an  inscription  in  faded  gilt,  "For 
John  Beverley,  Esq.,  of  Virginia."  It  had 
belonged  to  many  John  Beverleys,  Esquires, 
before  it  came  to  the  Colonel,  and  was 
regarded  as  a  sort  of  fetich  in  the  family. 

15 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

Betty  alone  had  the  responsibility  of  dusting 
it,  and  Uncle  Cesar  would  say  solemnly: 

'"I'd  heap  ruther  break  my  arm  than  break 
that  thur  bowl. " 

Beside  the  bowl,  there  was  some  quaint  old 
silver  and  the  1807  decanters,  huge  things  of 
pink  and  white  cut  glass,  that  had  known  good 


vintages  in  their  day.  By  Betty's  harp  lay 
her  grandfather's  fiddle  case,  for  the  Colonel 
loved  his  fiddle,  and  he  and  Uncle  Cesar,  his 
"boy,"  fiddled  seriously  together,  as  they 
had  done  since  they  were  small  boys  together, 


16 


CAPTIVATING  BETTY 

sixty  years  before,  and  had  got  rapped  over 
the  head  with  the  same  fiddle-bow. 

There  were  a  plenty  of  windows  in  the  little 
room,  and,  as  muslin  curtains  are  cheap,  there 
were  plenty  of  curtains,  and  geraniums  and 
verbenas  too  were  abundant,  as  they  cost 
nothing  at  all.  On  the  walls  was  a  pretty 
paper,  all  roses  and  green  leaves,  pasted  on 
by  Betty's  own  hands,  with  Uncle  Cesar  hold- 
ing the  stepladder  while  Betty  had  worked, 
singing  while  she  worked.  It  was  Betty  too 
who  had  painted  the  shabby  woodwork  white, 
daubing  away  gaily,  and  laughing  at  her 
blunders.  Nevertheless,  she  had  succeeded, 
for  Betty  was  a  very  efficient  person.  The 
chimney  had  a  wide  throat  and  drew  like  a 
windlass.  So,  on  the  whole,  the  sitting-room 
at  Holly  Lodge  was  a  cheerful  place. 

Betty,  standing  on  a  little  table,  was  so 
engrossed  in  her  occupation  of  getting  the 
laurel  wreath  straight  over  the  Colonel's 
picture,  that  she  did  not  hear  the  tramp  of  a 
horse's  hoofs  outside,  nor  a  knock  at  the  front 
door,  nor  Uncle  Cesar  opening  it  and  a  man's 
tread  in  the  little  hall.  In  her  eagerness,  she 
reached  up  very  far,  and  although  she  was  a 
slim  creature,  the  rickety  table  trembled 
under  her  light  foot,  and  the  Colonel  cried 
out: 

"Mind,  Betty,  mind!" 

17 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

But  it  was  too  late.  The  table  swayed,  and 
Betty  uttered  a  little  shriek  and  came  down 
with  a  crash,  not  upon  the  floor,  but  in  the 
arms  of  a  handsome  young  officer  in  his  cap 
and  military  cloak,  who  appeared  to  have 
dropped  down  the  chimney. 


CHAPTER  II 
A  YOUNG  SOLDIER 

THE  Colonel  started  up  and  Uncle  Cesar 
rushed  in  from  the  hall,  followed  by  Aunt 
Tulip  from  the  kitchen.  Betty  managed  to 
disengage  her  skirts  from  the  spurs  of  the 
young  officer,  and  then  stood  upon  her  feet, 
utterly  bewildered.  The  only  person  who 
was  not  panic-stricken  was  the  young  officer 
himself,  who  stood  bowing,  cap  in  hand. 

"Pray  excuse  me,"  he  said  to  Betty,  and 
bowing  low  to  her  and  then  to  the  Colonel. 
"Just  as  I  was  about  to  enter  the  room,  I 
saw  that  you  were  tottering,  and  ran  forward 
and  caught  you  just  in  time.  I  am  afraid  you 
would  have  had  a  bad  fall,  otherwise." 

"You  are  perfectly  excusable,  sir,"  said 

19 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

the  Colonel,  rising  grandly.  "Your  advent 
was  most  fortunate,  as,  although  I  saw  my 
granddaughter's  danger,  I  had  not  the  agility, 
with  my  years  and  rheumatism,  to  catch  her 
as  you  did.  May  I  ask  to  whom  I  am  in- 
debted!" 

"I  am  Mr.  Fortescue,"  said  the  young 
officer,  laying  a  card  down  on  the  table,  "of 
the  United  States  Army,  and  the  son  of  Mr. 
Fortescue  of  Rosehill." 

Betty's  quick  eyes  read  the  card  as  it  lay 
on  the  table.  "Lieutenant  John  Hope  For- 
tescue, United  States  Army." 

At  that  the  Colonel 's  face  changed  a  little. 
He  had  not  yet  grown  used  to  the  name  of 
Fortescue  of  Rosehill.  But  Betty  did  not 
mind.  She  saw  only  that  Mr.  Fortescue  was 
young  and  had  a  fine,  supple  figure  and  a 
pair  of  laughing  eyes  like  her  own,  and  a 
trim  little  black  mustache  and  a  close-cropped 
black  head  and  a  very  graceful  manner. 

' '  I  thank  you,  too,  Mr.  Fortescue,  "she  said, 
holding  out  her  slim  hand,  which  the  young 
lieutenant  took.  "I  think  our  acquaintance- 
ship has  had  a  very  auspicious  beginning." 

To  this  Fortescue  replied  gallantly: 

"If  it  saved  you  from  a  fall,  I  shall  cer- 
tainly consider  it  most  auspicious." 

Then,  they  looked  into  each  other's  eyes 
and  laughed,  as  young  creatures  do  who  have 

£0 


A  YOUNG  SOLDIER 

the  sweet  and  subtle  understanding  of  youth. 
The  Colonel  then  said : 

"Perhaps  you  know  my  name — Colonel 
Beverley — and  this  is  my  granddaughter, 
Miss  Elizabeth  Beverley.  Will  you  be 
seated!" 

' '  Grandfather  only  calls  me  Elizabeth  when 
he  is  introducing  me,  or  is  very  much  vexed 
with  me.  On  all  other  occasions,  I  am  Betty, ' ' 
explained  Betty  gravely. 

"Miss  Betty  Beverley — what  a  charming 
name!"  answered  Fortescue,  determined  to 
admire  everything  concerning  this  adorable 
Betty. 

Uncle  Cesar  took  Fortescue 's  military  cloak 
away,  and  the  young  officer  sat  with  his  hand- 
some head  and  elegant  figure  outlined  against 
the  strong  light  of  the  window. 

"I  must  beg  pardon  for  my  intrusion,"  he 
said  to  the  Colonel,  "but  I  have  come  upon 
official  business — hence  my  uniform." 

"I  understand,  sir,"  replied  the  Colonel. 
"I  have  worn  both  the  cadet  gray  and  the 
army  blue.  Later,  I  resigned  and  spent  some 
tranquil  years  at  Eosehill.  When  the  irre- 
pressible conflict  came,  I  put  on  a  gray  uni- 
form, as  did  my  son — my  only  son — the 
father  of  this  young  lady." 

Here  the  Colonel  indicated  Betty,  who 
spoke  quickly  and  with  pride : 

21 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

"Yes,  I  am  a  soldier's  daughter  and  proud 
of  it."' 

"The  soldier  should  be  proud  of  it," 
promptly  answered  Fortescue,  with  a  smile. 
Betty  was  no  Quaker  maiden,  but  came  of 
fighting  stock. 

"My  errand,"  continued  Fortescue,  turn- 
ing to  the  Colonel,  "is  from  my  superior 
officer,  Major  Studly,  who  is  engaged  in  mak- 
ing some  military  surveys  in  this  neighbor- 
hood. We  hope  to  go  in  camp  by  March.  I 
have  found  an  excellent  place  for  our  encamp- 
ment, with  running  water  for  the  animals, 
and  a  spring,  about  five  miles  from  here,  in 
the  rolling  country.  I  understand  that  the 
land  is  yours,  and  Major  Studly  asks  your 
permission  to  occupy  it  for  a  month  or  six 
weeks,  perhaps.  Of  course — er — er — com- 
pensation will  be  made  for  its  use  by  the  Gov- 
ernment." 

"Compensation  be  hanged!"  replied  the 
Colonel  blandly.  "It  gives  me  pleasure  to 
oblige  a  brother  officer,  although  the  United 
States  Government  may  go  to  the  devil ! ' ' 

Fortescue  smiled  at  this.  From  the  great 
fortress  forty  miles  away,  he  had  made  vari- 
ous incursions  into  the  country,  and  had  hap- 
pened upon  many  gallant  old  irreconcilables, 
like  Colonel  Beverley,  who  felt  it  their  duty 
to  hurl  defiance  upon  the  United  States  Gov- 

22 


A  YOUNG  SOLDIER 

ernment,  although  they  were  really  among 
its  best  citizens. 

1 1 1  thank  you  very  much, ' '  said  Fortescue, 
in  a  manner  as  courtly  as  the  Colonel's,  "not 
only  for  myself,  but  for  Major  Studly.  We 
will  do  as  little  damage  as  possible.  No  doubt 
we  shall  be  able  to  buy  the  wood  we  need  for 
our  encampment." 


"Not  from  me,  sir,"  promptly  replied  the 
Colonel.  "You  are  welcome  to  all  the  wood 
you  need,  and  if  it  is  too  much  trouble  to  cut 
it  down,  burn  up  the  fence-rails,  sir. ' ' 

Colonel  Beverley  liked  to  act  the  grand 
seigneur,  but,  owing  to  unfortunate  circum- 
stances, he  was  able  to  be  grand  only  in  small 
matters,  like  fence-rails. 

During  this  conversation,  Betty  sat  de- 
murely in  her  chair.  At  the  mention  of  com- 
pensation, a  rosy  vision  passed  before  her 
eyes  of  a  new  roof  to  the  kitchen,  and  possiblv 
a  new  gown  for  herself.  But  when  the  Colonel 

23 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

magnanimously  presented  the  Government  of 
the  United  States  with  the  use  of  his  land 
and  as  many  fence-rails  as  were  necessary  for 
fires,  Betty,  with  a  lofty  spirit  not  unlike  the 
Colonel's,  dismissed  the  hope  of  repairing 
the  kitchen  and  the  dream  of  the  new  gown. 

Fortescue,  however,  had  no  intention  of 
confining  his  conversation  to  the  Colonel, 
and  so,  looking  toward  Betty,  said : 

"This  is  my  first  visit  to  this  county." 

"I  hope  you  are  pleased  with  Rosehill," 
replied  Colonel  Beverley.  "Rosehill  has 
sheltered  seven  generations  of  Beverleys. 
The  present  mansion  was  built  by  my  grand- 
father, succeeding  a  smaller  house  built  by 
the  first  Beverley  of  Rosehill." 

"I  admire  the  house  very  much,"  said  For- 
tescue. "I  am  only  sorry  that  my  profession 
will  prevent  me  from  spending  much  time 
there." 

"Rosehill  is  a  noble  inheritance." 

They  were  upon  delicate  ground,  but  it  was 
impossible  that  the  subject  of  Rosehill  could 
be  avoided  at  their  first  meeting.  Fortescue 
congratulated  himself  on  getting  smoothly 
over  a  difficult  subject. 

"I  hope,  however,"  he  continued,  still  smil- 
ing at  Betty,  "to  make  frequent  visits  here  as 
long  as  I  am  stationed  on  this  coast.  I  be- 
lieve both  the  hunting  and  shooting  are  fine." 

24 


A  YOUNG  SOLDIER 

"Excellent,"  said  the  Colonel.  "It  lias 
been  a  good  many  years  since  I  indulged  in 
either.  My  granddaughter,  however,  likes 
the  hunting  field. ' ' 

"Yes,"  answered  Betty.  "We  haven't  a 
swell  hunt  club  like  you  have  at  the  North, 
but  our  foxes  are  just  as  wary  and  our  dogs 
as  intelligent.  Day  after  to-morrow  there  is 
to  be  the  grand  Christmas  hunt." 

"That,  sir,"  explained  Colonel  Beverley, 
"is  an  annual  custom  in  the  county.  The 
gentlemen  in  this  vicinity  all  assemble  at  day- 
break at  the  house  of  some  gentleman  in  the 
neighborhood,  for  at  daybreak  the  scent  lies. 
The  huntsmen  have  a  hasty  breakfast  by 
lamp-light,  and  start  out  before  sunrise.  The 
fox  is  seldom  caught  for  several  hours,  be- 
cause we  have  the  red  fox  in  this  county, 
which  can  double  many  times  on  his  pursuers. 
Then  the  victorious  huntsman  presents  the 
brush  to  the  lady  he  wishes  to  compliment.  It 
is  a  little  ceremony  of  great  antiquity.  And 
then  they  have  the  hunt  breakfast,  with  egg- 
nog,  the  flower  of  all  seductive  beverages 
which  bloom  at  Christmas  time." 

"Do  you  think  it  is  possible,"  asked  For- 
tescue  of  Betty,  "that  I,  with  three  of  my 
brother  officers,  who  are  spending  Christmas 
with  me,  could  be  permitted  to  join  in  the 
Christmas  hunt  day  after  to-morrow?" 

25 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

' « Certainly, ' '  cried  Betty.  * '  The  huntsmen 
are  to  meet  at  Bendover,  the  Carteret  place, 
and  Sally  Carteret  is  my  best  friend.  I'll 
ask  Sally  to  invite  you. ' ' 

Although  the  great  fortress  lay  only  forty 
miles  off,  and  was  well  known  by  sight  to 
Betty  Beverley  and  Sally  Carteret  and  all  the 


other  girls  in  the  county,  the  dashing  young 
officers  were  not  much  in  evidence,  and  Betty 
secretly  gloried  at  the  idea  of  presenting 
four  of  these  adorable  creatures  at  the  Christ- 
mas hunt.  As  for  Fortescue,  who  knew  the 
world  well,  the  frank  confidence  and  the  cor- 
dial hospitality  of  these  unsophisticated 
country  gentlepeople  delighted  him  beyond 
words. 

26 


A  YOUNG  SOLDIER 

Then  they  talked  awhile  on  what  the  rest 
of  the  world  was  talking  about,  Betty  listen- 
ing with  all  her  ears,  and  putting  in  an  occa- 
sional word.  Most  of  Fortescue's  con- 
versation was  addressed  to  the  Colonel,  but 
his  eyes  were  furtively  fixed  on  Betty's 


charming  face  and  her  little  feet,  with  buckles 
on  her  low  shoes  showing  coquettishly  from, 
the  edge  of  her  gown.  Fortescue  professed 
an  admiration  and  affection  for  Eosehill 
which,  it  must  be  admitted,  was  very  much 
accentuated  by  Betty's  bright  eyes.  Colonel 
Beverley,  with  finely  shaded  sarcasm,  ex- 
pressed regret  that  Fortescue's  father,  the 

27 


great  New  York  banker,  should  not  spend 
more  time  at  Rosehill,  and  Fortescue  assumed 
an  apologetic  attitude  for  bis  father,  and  was 
full  of  regret  tbat  be  himself  was  debarred 
from  being  much  at  Eosehill. 

"You  chose  the  profession  of  a  soldier," 
said  the  Colonel,  "when,  as  I  understand, 
you  might  very  well  have  been  a  well  fed 
drone  in  the  hive.'* 

"Hardly,"  replied  Fortescue,  laughing. 
"My  father  doesn't  like  drones.  He  is  him- 
self a  man  of  action  and  achievement,  and  my 
two  brothers  have  been  trained  to  work  in  my 
father's  own  line.  But  I  always  loved  the 
military  profession,  and  have  no  taste  nor, 
indeed,  capacity  for  any  other.  It  is  one  of 
the  sacrifices  of  an  army  life  that  I  can  only 
come  to  Eosehill  at  intervals.  But  wait  until 
I  retire,  thirty-six  years  from  now.  Then  I 
intend  to  settle  myself  at  Rosehill  perma- 
nently." 

"I  am  afraid  I  can't  wait  so  long  to  wel- 
come you,"  said  the  Colonel,  smiling. 

"But  I — can,"  answered  Betty.  "And 
when  you  come  back  you  will  find  me  on  the 
retired  list,  too,  still  Miss  Betty  Beverley,  of 
Holly  Lodge." 

Of  this  Fortescue  expressed  the  utmost  dis- 
belief. 

Then  Fortescue  and  Betty  talked  about  the 

28 


A  YOUNG  SOLDIER 

gaieties  of  the  Christmas  week.  There  was 
to  be  a  dance  every  night,  in  addition  to  the 
Christmas  hunt.  Fortescue  expressed  the 
deepest  regret  that,  being  unknown  in  the 
county,  neither  he  nor  his  guests  at  Eosehill 
would  be  likely  to  receive  invitations,  but  on 
this  point  he  was  reassured  by  Colonel 
Beverley. 

"I  understand,"  he  said,  ''that  you  and 
your  friends  arrived  only  yesterday.  My 
granddaughter  told  me  yesterday  morning 
that  for  the  first  time  this  winter  smoke  was 
coming  out  of  the  Kosehill  chimneys.  As  soon 
as  people  find  out  that  you  are  in  the 
county,  you  will  certainly  receive  invitations 
to  everything  that  is  desirable." 

Fortescue  expressed  a  pious  hope  that  this 
might  come  true.  Then,  feeling  that  he  had 
stayed  as  long  as  he  possibly  could  for  a  first 
visit,  Fortescue  rose  and  shook  hands  with 
the  Colonel,  who  cordially  invited  him  and  his 
friends  to  Holly  Lodge.  When  Betty  laid  her 
little  hand  in  his,  Fortescue  said,  as  he  gave 
it  a  delicate  pressure: 

"If  Miss  Sally  Carteret  is  kind  enough  to 
invite  my  friends  and  myself  to  the  Christmas 
hunt,  may  I  hope  that  you  will  chaperon  us?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Betty;  "provided  you  are 
not  too  lazy.  On  hunting  mornings,  I  am  in 
the  saddle  by  six  o'clock.  I  haven't  a  very 

29 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

imposing  mount.  Old  Whitey  pulls  the  rock- 
away,  and  isn't  above  hauling  wood  and  going 
to  the  mill,  but  he  has  a  strain  of  Diomede 
blood  in  him,  and  there's  life  in  the  old  horse 
yet." 

This  gave  Fortescue  an  inspiration,  but, 
being  a  natural  diplomat,  he  kept  it  to  him- 
self. 

Uncle  Cesar  was  waiting  in  the  narrow  little 
passage  with  Fortescue 's  military  cloak,  and 
brought  up  his  horse,  which  had  been  standing 
with  the  reins  thrown  over  a  limb  of  one  of 
the  great  holly  trees.  As  Fortescue  rode  past 
the  window,  sitting  straight  and  square  on 
his  high-bred  chestnut,  Betty  glued  her  nose 
to  the  window-pane,  and,  much  to  her  embar- 
rassment, was  seen  by  Fortescue,  who  raised 
his  cap,  and  bowed  to  his  saddle-bow. 


CHAPTER  III 
THROUGH  A  DORMER  WINDOW 

BETTY  watched  Fortescue  as  he  galloped 
along  the  road  that  lay  through  the  open  fields 
to  Eosehill.  The  vision  of  the  Christmas  hunt 
grew  bright.  She  would  see  Sally  Carteret 
that  night  at  the  dance  at  Marrowbone,  and 
Sally  was  no  more  likely  to  deny  an  invita- 
tion to  four  captivating  young  officers  than 
Betty  herself.  Betty  brought  her  mind  back 
with  a  jerk  from  this  new  and  brilliant  ele- 
ment which  had  suddenly  burst  into  her  placid 
life,  to  the  preparations  for  Christmas.  They 
were  such  as  would  be  made  in  the  small 
household  of  a  bankrupt  Virginia  colonel  and 

31 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

his  granddaughter,  his  "boy"  of  sixty-five 
and  the  "boy's"  wife  of  sixty,  but  they  were 
illuminated  by  the  true  Christmas  spirit, 
that  sweet  inspiration  and  good  will,  the 
radiance  of  the  Star  of  Bethlehem.  By  much 
scheming  and  saving,  Betty  had  acquired 
enough  money  to  buy  for  the  Colonel  a  mili- 
tary history  in  several  volumes,  for  which  he 
had  expressed  a  wish.  Equally,  with  infinite 
pains  and  secrecy,  the  Colonel  had  contrived 
out  of  his  scanty  purse  to  buy  for  Betty  a 
little  locket  and  chain ;  and  there  were  simple 
presents  for  Uncle  Cesar  and  Aunt  Tulip, 
useful  things  that  would  make  them  more 
comfortable.  And  from  the  two  old  faithful 
servants  were  humble  gifts  that  were  highly 
rated  by  Betty  and  the  Colonel.  Then  there 
were  the  preparations  for  the  Christmas 
dinner  the  next  day.  Although  there  was  not 
much  money  in  the  little  brown  house  of  Holly 
Lodge,  there  were  oysters  a-plenty  upon  the 
Driver  shore,  and  a  green  turtle  had  been  lying 
on  his  back  for  a  week  in  the  cellar,  to  be 
made  into  turtle  soup  for  the  Christmas 
dinner,  and  Aunt  Tulip  had  a  dozen  bronze 
turkeys  which  kept  her  busy,  of  which  the 
patriarch,  a  noble  gobbler,  had  gobbled  bis 
last  morituri  salutamus.  A  dish  of  terrapin, 
and  a  half  dozen  partridges,  knocked  over  by 
Uncle  Cesar,  who  had  a  rusty  old  gun ;  and  a 

32 


THROUGH  A  DORMER  WINDOW 

monumental  plum  pudding,  were  mere  ad- 
juncts to  the  feast. 

It  had  been  the  Colonel's  practice,  at  the 
old  mansion  at  Rosehill,  to  invite  half  the 
county  to  his  Christmas  dinner.  In  the  little 
sitting-room  at  Holly  Lodge,  there  was  not 


much  room  for  anybody  or  anything  except 
the  big  furniture  and  the  Colonel's  fiddle-case 
and  Betty's  harp;  besides,  the  Colonel,  after 
his  misfortune,  had,  as  yet,  not  much  heart 
for  company.  He  and  Betty  had  had  dozens 
of  invitations  from  all  over  the  county  and 
beyond,  for  Christmas,  but,  as  Betty  said: 

3  33 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

"Granddaddy  and  I  have  always  been  to- 
gether at  Christmas  ever  since  I  can  remem- 
ber, and  he  has  nobody  but  me  and  I  have 
nobody  but  him,  and  so  we  must  stay  together 
on  Christmas  Day,  Granddaddy  and  I." 

The  dusk  came  before  Betty  had  finished 
her  preparations  for  the  next  day,  and  then 
it  was  time  to  dress  for  the  party  at  Marrow- 
bone, the  Lindsay  place,  where  there  were 
young  students  home  from  the  University  of 
Virginia,  and  a  great  jollification  was  to  be 
had.  The  clutch  of  cold  upon  the  world  had 
tightened  as  the  red  sun  disappeared  and  the 
stars  came  out  in  the  dark  blue  heavens.  In 
Betty's  little  white  bedroom,  however,  a 
glorious  wood  fire  was  roaring,  and  the  scent 
of  the  odoriferous  wood  and  the  geraniums  in 
the  window  made  a  delicious  atmosphere. 
Betty  stood  before  the  fire,  warming  her  little 
feet,  and  saying  to  herself: 

"How  I  wish  we  could  afford  to  have  a  boy 
to  bring  up  wood  and  pick  up  chips  and  do 
so  many  things  that  Uncle  Cesar  has  to  do, 
and  really  isn  't  able,  poor  old  soul ! ' ' 

Then  Betty's  mind  reverted  to  former 
Christmases,  at  Rosehill,  when  there  were 
plenty  of  servants  and  plenty  of  everything 
except  money,  and  Betty  in  her  ignorance 
knew  nothing  of  debts  and  duns  and  mort- 
gages and  such  unpleasant  things.  She  looked 

34 


THROUGH  A  DORMER  WINDOW 

about  her  with  a  little  air  of  discontent,  and 
thought  of  her  beautiful  big  corner  bed-room 
at  Rosehill,  with  its  marble  mantel  and  the 
ornamental  plaster  frieze  around  the  ceiling, 
and  the  bell  to  ring,  by  which  a  maid  always 


appeared.  But,  being  a  courageous  person, 
Betty  took  herself  in  hand,  and  put  an  imme- 
diate stop  to  painful  reflections.  She  went 
up  to  the  little  dressing  table,  lighted  by  a 
candle  on  each  side  of  the  mirror,  and,  shak- 
ing her  small  fist  wrathfully  at  her  reflection 
in  the  glass,  proceeded  to  lecture  herself 
severely. 

85 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

"Now,  Betty  Beverley,"  she  said  sternly, 
puckering  her  forehead,  "this  sort  of  useless 
repining  is  perfectly  disgraceful,  and  has  got 
to  stop.  Do  you  understand,  Betty!  It  has 
got  to  stop.  You  have  got  your  grandfather 
and  a  great  many  comforts  and  blessings,  and 
you  don't  owe  any  money,  and  you  are  young 
and  very,  very  pretty " 

At  this  point,  Betty's  brow  smoothed  out, 
her  eyes  assumed  a  beatific  expression,  and 
her  rosy  lips  came  wide  open,  showing  a 
lovely,  elusive  dimple  in  her  left  cheek. 

"It  is  no  use  denying  it,  it  is  a  fact  and  a 
very  agreeable  one,  but,  as  Aunt  Tulip  says, 
'Beauty  ain't  nothin';  behavior's  all.'  Your 
good  looks  won't  amount  to  anything  if  you 
are  a  coward  and  a  poltroon ;  and  you,  a  sol- 
dier's  daughter  and  granddaughter,  with  no 
more  pluck  than  a  chicken!  Betty,  I  am 
ashamed  of  you.  Now,  make  up  your  mind 
to  act  like  a  soldier's  daughter  and  grand- 
daughter  " 

And  at  this  moment,  Fortescue,  whose 
image  had  been  lingering  in  Betty's  memory, 
suddenly  came  to  the  front.  She  saw  him  in 
her  mind's  eye,  galloping  past  the  window, 
his  military  cloak  around  him,  his  cap  set 
firmly  on  his  handsome  head,  his  look,  his  atti- 
tude, everything  about  him,  proclaiming  the 
soldier.  Betty's  smile  changed  from  mirth 

36 


THROUGH  A  DORMER  WINDOW 

to  one  of  dreamy  anticipation.    There  is  much 
flavor  in  the  wine  of  life  at  twenty. 

She  went  to  the  window,  and,  putting  her 
hands  on  each  side  of  her  eyes,  so  that  she 
could  look  out  into  the  gathering  gloom  of 
the  winter  night,  saw  afar  off  the  windows  of 
Rosehill  shining  with  light.  On.  the  day  after 
Christmas  she  would  see  that  young  soldier 
again.  Betty  made  a  rapid  calculation — it 
would  be  just  twenty-six  hours.  At  the 
thought  a  smile  began  in  Betty's  soft  eyes  and 
ended  on  her  rosy  lips. 


CHAPTER  IV 
KETTLE 

BEGINNING  with  Christmas  Eve,  there  was 
a  party  every  night  for  Betty,  and  as  wind 
and  weather  count  for  nothing  where  merry 
young  people  are  concerned,  Betty  prepared 
to  go,  in  spite  of  the  biting  cold,  and  a  knife- 
like  wind  that  came  howling  down  from  Lab- 
rador. Uncle  Cesar  was  to  take  her  to  the 
parties,  in  the  little,  old-fashioned  rockaway, 
drawn  by  the  one  horse  which  was  all  the 
stable  of  Holly  Lodge  could  boast.  The 
homeliness  of  her  equipage  did  not  in  the  least 
disconcert  Betty. 

"Because,"  as  Betty  said  to  herself, 
"  everybody  knows  I  am  Betty  Beverley  of 
Eosehill,  and  the  Rosehill  Beverleys  can  do  as 
they  please  about  carriages  and  clothes,  and  a 
blessed  good  thing  it  is,  as  the  family  is  down 
on  its  luck  at  present.** 

38 


KETTLE 

Betty  had  a  variety  of  euphemisms  to  dis- 
guise the  unpleasant  facts  of  life.  Poverty 
was  being  down  on  one's  luck;  simple  clothes 
were  a  joke;  and  shabbiness,  a  mere  romantic 
incident,  for  such  was  the  glorious  philosophy 
of  pretty  Betty. 

There  were,  however,  no  sighs  or  regrets 
for  Betty  that  Christmas  Eve,  as  she  looked 
with  shining  eyes  into  her  mirror.  Her  white 
gown,  made  by  her  own  clever  fingers,  fitted  to 
perfection,  and  revealed  all  the  delicate  love- 
liness of  her  white  neck  and  her  slender  arms. 
Around  her  throat  was  her  great-grand- 
mother's amethyst  necklace,  and  her  simple 
bodice  was  draped  with  her  great-grand- 
mother's lace  bertha.  Her  rich  hair,  with  its 
soft  tendrils  curling  upon  her  neck,  was 
adorned  with  a  wreath  of  ivy  leaves,  and  tiny 
moss  rosebuds  from  the  rosebush  in  the 
window  of  the  sitting-room.  This  little 
wreath  gave  Betty  the  look  of  a  wood- 
land nymph.  Aunt  Tulip,  who  acted  as  lady's 
maid,  during  the  intervals  of  her  duty  as 
cook,  housemaid,  and  what  not,  was  lost  in 
admiration,  and  suggested  that  Betty  would 
' '  cert  'n  'y  ketch  a  beau. ' '  This  simple  flattery 
delighted  Betty,  especially  as  all  the  time  she 
was  dressing  her  mind  was  fixed  upon  the 
charms  of  Lieutenant  John  Hope  Fortescue 
of  the  United  States  Army. 

39 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

When  Betty  was  quite  dressed,  and  had 
given  herself  a  final  survey  in  the  glass,  Aunt 
Tulip  went  down  to  see  if  the  rockaway  was 
hitched  up  with  old  Whitey.  Betty,  left  alone, 
blew  out  the  candles,  and,  drawing  the  cur- 
tains, looked  out  of  her  window  once  more  at 
Kosehill,  a  mile  across  the  open  fields.  Yes, 
the  house  was  lighted  up  cheerfully — it  was 
Betty's  pet  grievance  that  the  place  was  un- 
occupied for  such  long  intervals.  In  some 
way,  after  that  visit  from  Jack  Fortescue, 
Betty  was  more  reconciled  to  Mr.  Fortescue 's 
owning  Kosehill.  She  could  imagine  how  jolly 
it  must  be  there  with  half  a  dozen  young  offi- 
cers, and  if  they  were  all  as  charming  as  Lieu- 
tenant JohnHope  Fortescue Betty  blushed 

at  the  remembrance  of  her  descent  from  the 
top  of  the  table  into  Fortescue 's  arms. 

While  Betty  was  chasing  these  fancies,  like 
white  butterflies  in  the  sun,  she  noticed  a 
small  black  figure  far  down  the  lane.  It  was 
coming  toward  Holly  Lodge,  tramping  with 
short  steps  through  the  crust  of  snow.  As 
the  object  drew  nearer,  Betty's  keen  eyes  dis- 
covered that  it  was  a  small  boy — a  very  small 
boy.  Betty  wondered  why  so  small  a  child 
should  be  sent  out  in  the  winter  night.  When 
he  came  within  the  circle  of  red  light  from  the 
front  door,  Betty  saw  that  the  boy*  was  black 
and  very  ragged. 

40 


KETTLE 

By  this,  it  was  time  for  Betty  to  go  down- 
stairs and  show  herself  to  the  adoring  eyes 
of  her  grandfather.  Colonel  Beverley,  sit- 
ting in  his  great  chair  by  the  fire,  surveyed 
Betty  with  profound  satisfaction  as  she 
marched  solemnly  up  and  down,  and  pirou- 


etted before  him  to  show  her  new  white  satin 
slippers,  with  glittering  buckles.  From  the 
wreath  of  roses  down  to  these  little  slippers, 
the  Colonel  found  Betty  altogether  adorable, 
and  told  her  so. 

While  Betty  was  giving  stern  orders  to  the 
Colonel  to  go  to  bed  promptly  at  ten  o'clock, 
and  not  to  smoke  more  than  two  pipes,  Aunt 

41 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

Tulip  came  into  the  sitting-room  from  the 
nearby  kitchen. 

"Miss  Betty,"  proclaimed  Aunt  Tulip,  with 
the  air  of  announcing  a  catastrophe,  "what 
you  think  done  happen  now?  Them  good- 
for-nothin'  niggers  that  come  here  from  I 
dunno  where,  and  brought  a  little  boy  wid 
'em,  done  gone  away — they  tooken  the  boat 
to-day  at  the  landin'.  And  this  heah  boy  as 
ain't  got  no  father  nor  no  mother,  and  say  he 
doan's  believe  he  never  had  none,  got  skeered 
at  the  steamboat,  and  turn  'roun'  and  run 
away  heah!  What  we  gwine  ter  do  'bout 
him!" 

"Bring  him  in,"  cried  Betty,  suddenly  re- 
membering the  little  boy  she  had  seen  creep- 
ing through  the  snow. 

Aunt  Tulip  disappeared  and  returned  with 
a  small  colored  boy,  very  black,  very  ragged, 
almost  shoeless,  but  with  beady  eyes  cheerful 
as  Betty's  own,  and  a  row  of  shining  teeth 
which  he  showed  freely.  The  solemn  book  of 
life  evidently  had  no  terrors  for  him. 

As  he  saw  Betty  in  her  party  gown,  with 
the  wreath  on  her  delicate  head,  a  rapturous 
look  came  into  the  eyes  of  the  waif,  his  grin 
broadened,  he  seemed  to  have  a  vision  of 
Paradise. 

"Why,"  cried  Betty,  "he's  as  black  as  the 
kettle !  What 's  your  name,  little  boy  ? ' ' 

42 


KETTLE 

11  Solomon  'Zekiel  Timons,"  replied  the 
waif,  now  fairly  laughing  with  joy  amid  his 
rags. 

"Where  did  you  come  from!"  asked  the 
Colonel. 

Then  Solomon  'Zekiel  Timons,  prompted 
by  Aunt  Tulip,  told  his  story.  He  lived  with 
some  colored  people  who  were  always  on  the 
move.  Lately,  they  had  been  living  not  far 
from  Holly  Lodge,  and  the  waif  knew  Miss 
Betty  by  sight,  and  thought  she  was  "the 
beautifulest  lady  ever  I  see."  He  did  not 
know  whether  the  colored  people  were  related 
to  him  or  not,  nor  where  he  was  born,  nor  any- 
thing except  his  name.  He  had  not  been  ill- 
treated,  but  he  did  not  always  have  enough  to 
eat,  and  he  knew  his  ' '  clo  'es  was  mighty  rag- 
gety."  The  colored  people  were  going  some- 
where by  the  steamboat,  and  he  had  gone  that 
day  to  the  wharf  with  them,  their  belongings 
packed  on  an  ox-cart.  But  on  reaching  the 
wharf,  and  seeing  the  steamboat,  Solomon 
Ezekiel's  heart  had  fainted  within  him.  The 
grin  left  his  little  black  face,  and  his  round 
beady  eyes  grew  terrified  when  he  described 
in  jerky  sentences  the  horrors  of  the  steam- 
boat. 

"There  wuz  two  gre't  wheels,"  he  gasped, 
opening  his  arms  wide,  "as  big  as  dis  heah 
house — an'  they  keeps  on  a-churnin'  and 

43 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

a-churnin' !  An'  a  awful  thing  on  top  de  boat 
goin'  up  an'  down  like  dis" — here  Solomon 
'Zekiel  gave  a  very  realistic  imitation  of  the 
propeller  of  a  side-wheel  steamer  in  motion. 

"An'  den" — his  frightened  voice  sank  to  a 
whisper — ' '  'f o '  it  reach  de  wharf,  de  steam- 
boat hollered — it  jes'  keep  on  hollerin'  an' 
screechin'  an'  de  smoke  jes'  po'  outen  a  china- 
ley,  an'  de  steamboat  everlastin'  hollerin'. 
An'  I  wuz  so  skeered,  I  jes '  run  off  en  de  wharf 
an'  come  heah." 

Solomon  'Zekiel  coolly  ignored  the  fact 
that  the  steamboat  landing  was  five  miles 
away,  and  that  he  had  trudged  through  the 
biting  cold  and  the  snow,  in  his  poor  rags  and 
broken  shoes,  all  that  distance — and  he  was 
a  very  little  fellow  indeed. 

"Have  you  had  anything  to  eat  since  break- 
fast!" asked  Betty,  with  melting  eyes. 

"Naw,  'm,"  promptly  answered  Solomon 
'Zekiel. 

"And  this  is  Christmas  Eve!"  cried  Betty. 
"Now  Aunt  Tulip  will  take  you  into  the 
kitchen  and  give  you  a  good  supper,  Solomon 
'Zekiel — oh,  I  can't  stand  all  that  name — you 
are  as  black  as  the  kettle,  so  we'll  just  call  you 
Kettle  for  the  present." 

His  new  name  and  the  prospect  of  supper 
seemed  to  delight  the  little  negro  beyond 
words. 

44 


KETTLE 

By  that  time  Uncle  Cesar  had  driven  the 
rockaway  up  to  the  door,  and  the  Colonel  was 
handing  Betty  in  and  muffling  her  up,  as  one 
muffles  up  his  chief  and  only  treasure.  Aunt 
Tulip  brought  out  Uncle  Cesar's  fiddle-case 
with  his  fiddle,  for  Uncle  Cesar  was  an  essen- 
tial person  in  that  neighborhood,  on  account 
of  his  expert  fiddling.  Old  Whitey,  a  big, 
handsome  horse,  was  dancing  about  in  a 
manner  so  sprightly,  in  spite  of  his  thirteen 
years,  that  Betty  felt  certain  he  would  make 
a  good  appearance  at  the  Christmas  hunt. 


CHAPTER  V 
CHRISTMAS  COMES  BUT  ONCE  A  YEAR 

IT  was  not  much  after  seven  o'clock,  but 
early  hours  are  kept  in  the  country,  and  there 
was  a  six-mile  drive  between  Holly  Lodge  and 
Marrowbone.  Betty  enjoyed  the  drive,  in- 
haling the  icy,  crisp  night  air  as  if  it  were 
champagne.  Old  Whitey  did  the  six  miles  in 
less  than  an  hour,  and  Betty  was  in  the  thick 
of  the  arrivals  for  the  party.  The  hospitable 
host,  Major  Lindsay — for  there  were  many 
majors  and  colonels  in  Virginia  in  those 
days — met  his  guests  on  the  great  portico, 
with  the  big  wooden  Doric  columns. 

^"How  do  you  do,  Miss  Betty?"  Major 
Lindsay  said.  "And  where  is  the  Colonel, 
pray?" 

46 


CHRISTMAS  COMES  BUT  ONCE  A  YEAR 

' '  Granddaddy  sent  his  compliments  and  re- 
grets, but  he  says  he  is  really  too  rheumatic 
to  go  out  to  dances,"  answered  Betty,  slip- 
ping out  of  the  rockaway. 

1  'Nonsense,  nonsense!"  shouted  the  Major, 
who  was  big  and  florid  and  handsome.  ' '  The 
Colonel  is  as  able  to  shake  a  leg  as  ever  he 
was,  by  George!  I  hope  Cesar  has  brought 
the  fiddle,  because  we  are  reckoning  upon 
him." 

"Yes,  sirree,"  answered  Uncle  Cesar,  with 
important  emphasis.  "I  got  some  rheumatiz, 
too,  same  like  ole  Marse,  but  mine  is  in  my 
legs,  thank  God  A 'mighty,  and  ain't  tech  my 
bow  arm  yet,  praise  the  Lamb ! ' ' 

Betty  tripped  up  the  steps,  and  Major 
Lindsay  gallantly  escorted  her  into  the  wide 
hall. 

Within  this  great  hall  were  Christmas 
mirth  and  cheeriness,  and  laughter  and  bright 
eyes  and  gay  smiles.  The  house,  following 
the  plan  of  most  houses  of  eastern  Virginia, 
had  a  splendid  great  hall,  big  enough  for  a 
ball-room,  and  always  used  for  dancing;  for 
the  people  of  Virginia  are  inveterate  dancers, 
and  a  house  is  but  poorly  provided  which  can- 
not furnish  space  for  balls.  Holly  wreaths 
were  everywhere,  and  over  each  door  was  a 
sprig  of  mistletoe,  causing  the  ladies  to 
scamper  through  the  doorways  with  little 

47 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

shrieks  of  laughter,  while  the  gentlemen  used 
strategies  to  intercept  them. 

Already  dancing  had  begun,  though  the 
orchestra  was  by  no  means  complete  without 
Uncle  Cesar.  But  the  impatient  young  feet 
could  not  wait.  Isaac  Minkins,  a  saddle- 
colored  person,  who  combined  the  profession 
of  driving  a  fish-cart  in  the  day-time  and 
fiddling  in  the  evening,  was  the  director  of 
the  orchestra,  and  his  sole  assistant,  until 
Uncle  Cesar  arrived,  was  a  coal  black  youth 
who  also  helped  on  the  fish-cart,  and  who 
performed  upon  the  concertina,  or,  as  the 
negroes  call  it,  the  "lap  organ."  Uncle 
Cesar,  who  was  quickly  hustled  into  the  hall, 
promptly  tuned  up  and  played  second  fiddle. 

By  that  time  Betty  had  run  upstairs, 
thrown  off  her  cloak,  taken  one  hasty  but 
satisfactory  view  of  herself  in  the  mirror,  and 
was  stepping  daintily  down  the  staircase. 
Now,  Betty,  who  was  a  scheming  and  design- 
ing creature,  knew  exactly  how  to  descend 
the  stairs  into  the  dancing  hall.  This  descent 
down  the  fine  staircase  in  full  view  of  the 
assembled  company  was  an  effective  part  of 
the  programme,  and  the  artful  Betty,  with 
an  outspread  fan  in  one  hand  and  holding 
up  her  filmy  white  skirts  with  the  other  just 
enough  to  show  her  little  white  satin  slippers, 
was  the  prettiest  picture  imaginable.  So 

48 


CHRISTMAS  COMES  BUT  ONCE  A  YEAR 

thought  Lieutenant  John  Hope  Fortescue  of 
the  United  States  Army,  and  several  other 
admirers,  both  old  and  new.  As  Betty  came 
down  the  stairs  with  what  appeared  to  be  un- 


studied  grace,  but  was  not,  her  soft  eyes 
swept  the  dancers  below,  and  she  nodded  and 
smiled  back  at  those  who  recognized  her.  But 
she  did  not  see  Fortescue  until  she  was  almost 
at  the  last  step,  when  he  came  forward  and 
took  her  hand.  He  had  been  strikingly  hand- 
some in  uniform,  and  he  was  scarcely  less  so 
in  his  well  fitting  evening  clothes,  although 

4  49 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

Betty,  like  all  women,  had  a  secret  hankering 
for  uniforms. 

"Good  evening,  Miss  Beverley,"  said  For- 
tescue,  and  Betty  gave  a  pretty  little  start  of 
real  surprise. 

"Good  evening,"  she  said,  and  then  hesi- 
tated. 


"And  how  did  I  get  here!"  said  Fortescue, 
laughing  and  answering  the  look  of  surprised 
inquiry  in  Betty's  eloquent  face.  "The 
greatest  streak  of  luck  that  ever  happened! 
When  I  got  back  to  Eosehill,  I  found  Major 
Lindsay  had  come  to  call — the  kindest  and 
most  hospitable  people  that  ever  lived  are  in 
Virginia,  I  believe — and  he  invited  us  to  come 
over  to  this  party.  "We  fairly  jumped  down 

50 


CHRISTMAS  COMES  BUT  ONCE  A  YEAR 

his  throat,  I  can  tell  you,  we  were  so  glad  to 
accept. ' ' 

"And  I  am  so  glad  you  did,"  said  Betty 
affably. 

She  had  never  laid  eyes  on  Fortescue  until 
four  hours  before,  but  Betty  was  Southern, 
and  a  Virginian  at  that,  and  readily  assumed 
a  tone  of  the  warmest  friendship  with  every 
personable  young  man  she  met,  immediately 
after  making  his  acquaintance. 

"And  now,"  continued  Betty  in  an  implor- 
ing tone,  as  if  there  were  not  another  man 
within  a  hundred  miles,  "will  you  be  kind 
enough  to  take  me  up  to  Mrs.  Lindsay  to 
speak  to  her?" 

"Certainly,"  replied  Fortescue,  placing 
her  little  gloved  hand  within  his  arm,  and 
improving  his  opportunities  as  he  did  so. 

It  was  not  an  easy  matter  for  Betty  to  reach 
Mrs.  Lindsay,  standing  at  the  other  end  of 
the  hall.  Betty  was  stopped  every  minute  by 
girls  speaking  to  her,  and  by  young  men  ask- 
ing dances  of  her.  The  girls  called  her 
"Betty"  and  the  young  men  called  her  "Miss 
Betty,"  so  Fortescue  promptly  dropped  the 
formal  "Miss  Beverley ' '  and  called  her ' ' Miss 
Betty,"  as  if  he  had  known  her  for  a  hundred 
years. 

Meanwhile,  the  first  fiddle  and  the  "lap 
organ,"  reinforced  by  Uncle  Cesar's  stout 

51 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

bow  arm,  were  playing  energetically  "I'se 
Gwine  Back  to  Dixie,"  and  Betty's  slender 
feet  danced  rather  than  walked  up  the  hall. 
At  last  they  were  standing  before  Mrs.  Lind- 
say, stout,  handsome,  and  florid,  like  the 
Major,  and  receiving  her  guests  with  heart- 
felt hospitality  like  her  husband.  The  hostess 
greeted  Betty  warmly,  and,  above  the  music 
and  merry  chatter,  screamed  without  any 
punctuations  whatever : 


"How  d9  you  do  Betty  so  glad  to  see  you 
sorry  your  grandfather  can't  be  here  tell  him 
to  rub  his  knees  with  turpentine  every  night. 
Tom's  brought  four  of  his  friends  from  the 
University  and  you  must  dance  with  them 
all  so  delighted  to  have  Mr.  Fortescue  and  the 
other  officers  from  Rosehill  go  right  into  the 
library  and  get  some  hot  biscuit  and  coffee 
you  must  be  so  cold  after  your  drive  how  do 
you  do,"  etc.,  etc.,  saying  the  same  kind  things 
to  the  next  arrival. 

52 


CHRISTMAS  COMES  BUT  ONCE  A  YEAR 

And  then  Tom  Lindsay,  a  University  of 
Virginia  sophomore,  swooped  down  on  Betty ; 
but  just  as  he  caught  her  hand,  Fortescue, 
who  knew  both  how  to  act  and  to  think,  put 
his  arm  around  Betty's  waist,  and  they 
whirled  off  to  the  strains  of  "Fse  gwine  back 
to  Dixie,  where  the  orange-blossoms  blow." 
Betty,  however,  managed  to  put  her  hand  for 
a  second  in  Tom  Lindsay's  and  to  say,  as 
everybody  said  to  everybody  else : 

"Oh,  so  glad  to  see  you!  Have  just  been 
dying  of  loneliness  without  you;"  and  when 
safely  out  of  Tom's  hearing  Betty  whispered 
into  Fortescue 's  ear,  "Such  a  nice  boy!  We 
used  to  play  together.  Of  course,  I  have  to 
say  things  like  that  to  the  child. ' '  By  which 
it  may  be  seen  that  Miss  Betty  Beverley  was 
a  most  unprincipled  person  when  it  came  to 
dealing  with  personable  young  men,  and  did 
not  have  the  New  England  conscience  or  any 
other  conscience,  where  flattering  a  person 
of  the  other  sex  was  concerned. 

"When  the  dance  was  over,  Fortescue,  like 
an  able  commander,  following  up  his  advan- 
tage, mentioned  to  Betty  that  they  should 
accept  Mrs.  Lindsay's  suggestion  and  go  into 
the  library  and  have  the  coffee  and  biscuits 
which  were  always  served  immediately  upon 
the  arrival  of  guests  at  a  Virginia  party. 
This  did  not  appeal  particularly  to  Betty,  but 

53 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

when  Tom  Lindsay  came  up  and  told  her  that 
he  wanted  to  introduce  his  fellow  students  to 
her,  and  they  would  all  go  into  the  library 
together  for  coffee,  Fortescue  suddenly  re- 
membered that  he  must  introduce  his  brother 
officers  also  to  Betty.  This  was  enough  to 
send  Betty  rapidly  into  the  library,  where  she 
found  herself  in  an  Elysium  of  University 
students  and  second  lieutenants.  Being  a 
generous  soul,  Betty  seized  upon  Sally  Car- 
teret,  a  tall,  handsome  girl,  and  divided  her 
plunder  of  students  and  officers  with  Sally. 
It  was  only  necessary  to  mention  that  Mr. 
Fortescue  and  his  friends  would  stay  over 
Christmas  day,  for  Sally  to  invite  them  to 


y* 


v^ 


yg# 


^e&S^* 

\i  "Vt^v  x a  ^  -af •  * /^  ^" y 

•^%.^«r5//f^.< 


the  Christmas  hunt  and  breakfast  at  Bend- 
over.  Seeing  there  was  no  chance  of  monop- 
olizing Betty,  Fortescue  found  Sally,  with  her 
gypsy  beauty,  by  no  means  a  bad  substitute. 

54 


CHRISTMAS  COMES  BUT  ONCE  A  YEAR 

Between  the  dances,  raids  were  made  into 
the  library,  where  from  a  big  table  hot  coffee 
and  buttered  biscuits,  with  "old  ham"  that 
had  been  cured  in  the  smoke  from  hickory 
ashes  for  a  couple  of  years — a  great  Virginia 
luxury — and  a  round  of  beef,  were  served  as 
a  mere  preliminary  to  the  big  supper  which 
was  coming  later.  By  the  great  fireplace  stood 
a  table  with  a  huge  bowl  of  apple  toddy.  The 
older  gentlemen,  who  were  at  cards  in  the 
drawing-room  with  prim,  elderly  ladies,  made 
frequent  incursions  upon  the  apple  toddy. 
The  ladies  carefully  avoided  this  seductive 
brew  and  kept  to  weak  tea  and  thin  biscuit. 


Over  all  was  the  true  spirit  of  Christmas 
gaiety,  the  heart-whole  and  heart-given  hos- 
pitality of  a  hospitable  people. 


55 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

The  dancing  went  on  gaily  until  half  past 
eleven  o'clock,  when  the  concoction  of  the 
Christmas  eggnog  began.  Every  gentleman 
was  supplied  with  a  silver  fork  and  a  plate 
in  which  had  been  broken  the  whites  of  four 
eggs.  They  had  to  be  beaten  so  stiff  that  the 
plate  could  be  held  over  the  head  of  a  lady 
without  dropping  upon  her.  Such  was  the 


tradition,  but  only  a  few  ladies  took  the  risk, 
holding  out,  meanwhile,  their  dainty  handker- 
chiefs over  their  heads  to  catch  the  whipped- 
up  whites  in  case  they  fell.  Betty  was  one 
of  the  venturesome  ones,  and  Fortescue  was 
her  cavalier,  and  turned  the  plate  over  her 
head,  but  not  a  drop  fell  upon  Betty's  out- 
spread lace  handkerchief.  Then  the  whites 
of  the  eggs  were  mixed  with  the  beaten  up 
yolks  and  the  whipped  cream  and  the  "stiff- 
ening" as  Major  Lindsay  called  it,  who,  as 

56 


CHRISTMAS  COMES  BUT  ONCE  A  YEAR 

host,  did  the  mixing,  and  then  ladled  out  the 
foaming  eggnog.  At  twelve  o'clock  exactly 
Major  Lindsay  held  up  his  glass  and  shouted, 
*  *  Merry  Christmas ! ' '  and  a  great  chorus  went 
up  of  "Merry  Christmas!  Merry,  merry 
Christmas!"  Then,  Isaac  Minkins,  with  a 
magnificent  flourish  of  his  bow,  burst  forth 
into  the  strains  of  "The  Flowing  Bowl." 
All  joined  in  the  great  Christmas  song,  Major 
Lindsay's  big  baritone  leading  the  chorus: 

"  For  to-night  we'll  merry,  merry  be, 

For  to-night  we'll  merry,  merry  be, 

For  to-night  we'll  merry,  merry  be, 

And  to-morrow  we'll  be  sober." 

Then  the  gentlemen  roared  out : 

"  Here's  to  the  man  who  drinks  good  ale  and  goes  to  bed 

quite  mellow. 

He  lives  as  he  ought  to  live,  and  dies  a  damned  good  fellow. 
He  lives  as  he  ought  to  live, 
He  lives  as  he  ought  to  live, 
He  lives  as  he  ought  to  live, 

And  dies  a  damned  good  fellow. 

"  Here's  to   the   man   who  drinks   no  ale   and  goes  to  bed 

quite  sober. 
He  withers  as  the  leaves  do,  and  dies  in  the  month  of 

October. 

He  withers  as  the  leaves  do, 
He  withers  as  the  leaves  do, 
He  withers  as  the  leaves  do. 

And  dies  in  the  month  of  October." 

Then  came  the  verse  in  which  all  the  ladies 
joined  with  great  enthusiasm: 

57 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

*  Here's  to  the  girl  who  gets  a  kiss,  and  runs  and  tells  her 

mother. 
May  she  live  to  be  an  old  maid,  and  never  get  another! 

The  chorus  pealed  out,  Betty  Beverley's 
clear  and  ringing  soprano  above  all  the  rest : 

"  May  she  live  to  be  an  old  maid, 
May  she  live  to  be  an  old  maid, 
May  she  live  to  be  an  old  maid, 
And  never  get  another." 

Then  the  folding  doors  to  the  dining-room 
were  thrown  open  and  the  real  supper  was 
served,  to  which  coffee,  biscuit,  "old  ham," 
and  the  round  of  beef  were  merely  the  appe- 
tizers. An  emperor  of  a  turkey  was  at  the 
head  of  the  table,  with  another  at  the  foot, 
and  one  at  each  side  scarcely  inferior  in  im- 
perial splendor.  There  were  cold  pickled 
oysters,  and  hot  oysters,  creamed,  steamod, 
fried,  stewed,  and  in  scallop  shells.  There 
were  great  dishes  of  terrapin,  not  indeed  the 
diamond-back  of  Maryland  fame,  but  the 
slider,  a  dry-land  terrapin,  an  excellent  crea- 
ture when  accompanied  with  the  butter, 
cream,  eggs,  sherry,  and  brandy  which  are 
lavished  upon  him.  There  were,  of  course, 
more  old  hams,  rounds  of  beef,  and  a  gigantic 
saddle  of  Southdown  mutton,  which  Major 
Lindsay  himself  carved  with  a  magnificent 
flourish.  The  boned  turkey  was  a  gem,  the 

58 


CHRISTMAS  COMES  BUT  ONCE  A  YEAR 

work  in  the  case  being  done  by  Dr.  Markham, 
the  cheery,  pleasant-faced  village  doctor, 
who,  it  was  popularly  reported,  in  getting 
the  bones  out  of  the  turkey  used  the  identical 
instruments  with  which  he  cut  off  legs  and 
arms.  But  the  doctor 's  services  being  in  de- 
mand by  hostesses  at  Christmas  time,  no  prej- 
udice existed  against  either  the  boned  turkey 
or  the  doctor. 

There  were  pigeon-pie,  wild  ducks,  chicken 
salad,  and  a  few  other  incidentals,  to  be 
topped  off  by  ices,  custards,  jellies,  and  cakes 
of  innumerable  varieties.  It  took  an  hour 
to  get  through  with  the  supper,  and  when  the 
guests  had  feasted  and  left  the  dining-room, 
there  was  still  enough  left  to  feed  a  couple  of 
regiments. 

The  musicians  had  had  their  supper  and 
a  glass  of  apple  toddy,  and  eggnog  in  addi- 
tion, and  were  ready  again  with  fiddles  and 
"lap  organ"  to  start  the  flying  feet  once 
more.  Betty  had  more  partners  than  she 
could  accommodate,  and  told  each  one  the 
same  story  in  various  forms,  punctuated  by 
a  sidelong  glance,  which  was  Betty's  own — 
that  she  only  wished  she  could  dance  with  him 
all  the  evening.  Tom  Lindsay,  a  handsome 
youngster,  who  called  Betty  by  her  first  name 
and  assumed  proprietary  rights  over  her, 
was  encouraged  to  do  so  by  this  arch-hypo- 

59 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

crite  of  a  girl.  But  in  this  Betty  only  fol- 
lowed the  prevailing  fashion.  All  of  the  uni- 
versity students  and  young  officers  present, 
except  Fortescue,  found  themselves  involved 
in  at  least  half  a  dozen  desperate  flirtations, 
which  promised  to  continue  during  the  whole 
week,  and  then  never  to  be  heard  of  again. 


It  was  four  o'clock  in  the  wintry  Christmas 
morning  before  the  musicians  tuned  up  for 
the  final  Virginia  reel.  The  two  lines  were 
formed  down  the  great  hall,  and  extending 
through  the  folding  doors  into  the  library. 
The  elders  sat  around,  the  card-players  in  the 
drawing-room  giving  up  their  games  of  old- 
fashioned  whist  to  watch  the  dancers.  Betty 
Beverley  had  the  honor  of  leading  off  with 
Major  Lindsay,  an  agile  and  graceful  dancer 
in  spite  of  his  two  hundred  pounds.  Fortes- 
cue,  with  the  eye  of  a  strategist,  took  the  least 
desirable  position  at  the  other  end  of  the 
line,  but  by  this  he  acquired  the  privilege  of 

60 


CHRISTMAS  COMES  BUT  ONCE  A  YEAR 

meeting  Betty  in  the  middle  of  the  line, 
swinging  her  around  first  by  the  right  hand 
and  then  by  the  left,  next  by  both  hands  and 
then  dos-a-dos,  and  passing  under  the  arch. 
The  musicians  played  with  the  fire  and  en- 
thusiasm peculiar  to  their  race.  The  fiddlers 
wagged  their  heads,  beat  time  with  their  feet, 
flourished  their  bows,  while  the  youth  with 
the  "lap  organ"  stood  up  and  fairly  danced 
with  delight  as  the  strains  of  "Forked  Deer" 
and  "Billy  in  the  Low  Grounds"  rent  the  air. 

When  the  two  ends  of  the  reel  were  danced, 
Major  Lindsay  and  Betty  tripped  down  the 
middle,  the  Major  cutting  the  pigeon-wing 
and  taking  many  quaint  and  curious  steps, 
which  were  followed  by  Betty's  twinkling 
feet.  Then  they  danced  back  again,  and  be- 
gan swinging  the  row  of  dancers  until  they 
had  reached  the  end  of  the  line  again.  The 
march  followed  next,  Betty  leading  the  ladies, 
and  the  Major  leading  the  men,  all  clapping 
time  rhythmically  with  the  dashing  music. 
This  was  gone  through  religiously  with  every 
couple  in  the  reel,  and  it  took  an  hour  to  be 
danced.  Then,  at  last,  it  finished  up  in  the 
grand  chain,  everybody  shaking  hands  with 
everybody  else,  and  wishing  each  other 
"Merry  Christmas." 

It  was  still  pitch  dark  in  the  December 
morning,  although  past  five  o'clock.  The 

61 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

carriages  were  brought  up  to  the  door,  and 
the  ladies  were  shot  into  them,  the  horses 
prancing  in  the  freezing  air  and  restless  to 
take  the  road.  Betty  was  one  of  the  last  to 
leave,  as  Uncle  Cesar  had  to  "wrop  up"  his 
fiddle  carefully,  put  it  in  the  case,  and  carry 
it  tenderly  out  to  the  rockaway.  Old  Whitey 
came  up  to  the  big  Doric  portico,  stepping 
high  and  snorting  as  if  he  were  a  colt.  Major 
Lindsay  escorted  Betty  down  the  steps  of 
the  great  portico,  but  at  the  foot  Fortescue, 
bareheaded  in  the  winter  darkness,  was  wait- 
ing. He  gave  Betty's  slender  hand  one  last 
pressure,  wrapped  her  delicate  feet  up 
warmly  in  the  blanket,  and  got  a  sweet  part- 
ing glance  from  the  girl's  fair  eyes  before 
Uncle  Cesar  called  out : 

"Gee  up,  ole  hoss!" 

Betty  leaned  back  in  the  rockaway  as  old 
Whitey  trotted  briskly  along  the  frozen  road. 
She  was  in  one  of  those  happy  dreams  that 
are  the  glorious  heritage  of  sweet  and  twenty. 
Her  mind  was  divided  between  the  charms  of 
dashing  university  students  and  charming 
young  officers,  together  with  speculations  as 
to  whether  her  white  muslin  gown  really 
would  last  through  Christmas  week.  There 
were  several  alarming  rents  in  it  already,  for 
Betty  had  enjoyed  herself  very,  very  much. 

Then  her  thoughts  turned  to  soberer  things, 

62 


CHRISTMAS  COMES  BUT  ONCE  A  YEAR 

such  as  the  way  the  brave  old  Colonel  stood 
the  translation  from  Rosehill  to  Holly  Lodge, 
and  the  necessity  for  making  both  ends  meet, 
and  the  building  of  a  stable  for  their  one  cow. 
For  Betty's  outside  and  inside  by  no  means 
corresponded.  On  the  outside,  she  was  all 
laughter  and  singing  and  dancing,  like  a  silver 
fountain  in  the  golden  sun.  Inside,  she  was 
the  most  level-headed,  the  most  thoughtful, 
and  the  most  courageous  creature  in  the 
world.  Betty  was  practical  and  sentimental, 
tender  and  cruel,  gay  and  sad,  bold  and  timor- 
ous, and  always  Betty. 


CHAPTER  VI 
KETTLE  AND  OTHER  THINGS 

MEANWHILE,  things  had  happened  at  Holly 
Lodge.  The  Colonel  had  taken  out  his  violin 
and  played  dreamily  the  old  airs,  von  "Weber 's 
"Last  Waltz,"  "Love  Not,"  and  "Bygone 
Hours."  At  sixty-eight,  one  has  many 
Christmas  days  to  look  back  upon.  The 
faithful  heart  of  Aunt  Tulip  in  the  kitchen 
was  touched  when  the  delicate  strains  of  the 
violin  floated  upon  the  air. 

U01e  Marse,  he  jes'  cipherin'."  Cipher- 
ing, in  the  negro  language,  means  brooding 
with  sadness  and  melancholy. 

But  then  Aunt  Tulip's  attention  was  dis- 

64 


KETTLE  AND  OTHER  THINGS 

tracted  by  the  newcomer,  Kettle.  The  boy, 
huddled  close  to  the  fire,  his  hands  locked 
around  his  knees,  his  shining  black  eyes  fixed 
on  the  blaze,  was  filled  with  deep  content ;  he 
was  warm,  he  had  had  a  good  supper,  and  he 
had  escaped  the  dangers  of  the  screaming 
steamboat.  Those  who  had  left  him  behind 
had  not  been  too  kind  to  him,  and  he  had  no 
regrets  for  them.  Suddenly  his  enjoyment  of 
the  dolce  far  niente  was  rudely  interrupted 
by  Aunt  Tulip,  who  herself  seldom  indulged 
in  the  sweet-do-nothing. 

"Look  a-heah,  boy,"  she  said,  "I'm  agoin' 
to  give  you  a  good  washin'  and  put  you  to 
bed.  Boys  oughter  be  abed  by  this  time,  so 
they  k'yarn'  git  in  no  mo'  mischief  'twell 
to-morrer  morninV 

With  that  Kettle  was  ruthlessly  seized,  his 
clothes  stripped  off  him,  and  he  was  soused 
in  a  washtub  of  warm  water,  while  Aunt 
Tulip,  with  a  scrub-brush,  and  soft  soap  of 
her  own  manufacture,  scrubbed  him  from 
head  to  foot,  including  his  woolly  head. 
Kettle,  who  had  rather  dreaded  the  unusual 
experience,  enjoyed  it  before  he  got  through. 
Then  Aunt  Tulip,  putting  a  nightgown  of  her 
own  on  him,  covered  him  up  in  a  little  pallet 
she  had  made  upon  the  floor  of  her  own  room, 
next  the  kitchen,  and  in  two  minutes  Kettle 
had  passed  into  the  dreamless  sleep  of  a  tired 

5  65 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

little  boy.  Aunt  Tulip  began  to  examine  the 
boy's  worn  clothes.  They  were  very  ragged, 
and  his  shoes  quite  beyond  help.  But  clothes, 
however  ragged,  may  be  washed  and  mended. 
So  Aunt  Tulip,  who  had  worked  hard  all  that 


day  and  every  day,  set  herself  the  task  of 
having  something  decent  for  Kettle  to  put 
on  Christmas  morning.  She  toiled  at  the 
washtub  while  Betty,  afar  off,  was  dancing, 
and  the  Colonel  had  long  since  gone  to  his 
bedroom  on  the  ground  floor.  After  Kettle's 
poor  clothes  were  washed  and  ironed,  they 

66 


KETTLE  AND  OTHER  THINGS 

were  hung  before  the  kitchen  fire  to  dry,  and 
then  Aunt  Tulip,  getting  out  her  big  work- 
basket  and  brass  thimble  and  putting  on  her 
horn  spectacles,  began  the  work  of  mending 
Kettle's  rags.  She  patched  and  darned  in- 
dustriously, and  at  last,  with  a  sigh  of  pro- 
found satisfaction,  she  folded  up  and  laid 
upon  a  chair  Kettle's  clothes,  including  his 
jacket  and  trousers,  neatly  washed  and 
mended  and  decent.  Nothing  could  be  done 
with  his  shoes,  except  to  put  some  shoe-polish 
on  them,  and  this  she  did.  The  Christmas 
stars  looked  down  kindly  upon  the  poor  negro 
woman  toiling  for  one  of  God's  poor,  and  the 
Christmas  angels  wafted  a  benediction  upon 
her  humble  head. 

When  her  labor  was  over,  Aunt  Tulip  lay 
down  to  rest  for  a  couple  of  hours.  She  knew 
well  enough  when  Betty  would  return,  and 
the  fire  had  to  be  started  up  in  Betty's  room, 
and,  after  old  Whitey  had  been  put  in  the 
stable,  Uncle  Cesar  must  have  his  hot  coffee 
and  corn  pone.  For  Aunt  Tulip,  like  many 
of  her  humble  sort,  was  a  minister  of  kind- 
ness to  all  around  her. 

It  was  six  o'clock,  but  still  the  world  was 
all  inky  blackness  when  the  wheels  of  the 
rockaway  crunched  before  the  door  of  Holly 
Lodge.  The  fire  in  Betty's  room  had  been 
stirred  into  a  cheering  blaze,  and  Aunt  Tulip 

67 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

was  ready  to  help  her  out  of  her  simple  even- 
ing gown. 

"I  declar,  Miss  Betty,"  said  Aunt  Tulip, 
as  she  unhooked  Betty,  "how  some  folks  kin 
let  a  chile  go  as  raggety  as  that  air  boy,  I 
doan'  see." 


Betty's  mind  came  back  from  officers  and 
university  students  to  Kettle. 

"We  must  try  and  get  him  some  decent 
clothes,  Mammy,"  answered  Betty,  Aunt 
Tulip  having  been  Betty's  mammy  in  her 
baby  days. 

"Anyhow,"  continued  Aunt  Tulip,   "the 

68 


KETTLE  AND  OTHER  THINGS 

boy  has  got  sumpin'  decent  fur  Chrismus' 
mornin '.  I  done  washed  his  clo  'es  an '  mended 
'em  up  the  bes'  I  could." 

"And  were  yon  washing  and  ironing  and 
mending  all  this  Christmas  night?"  asked 
Betty. 

"Well,"  replied  Aunt  Tulip,  "I  didn't 
mind  settin'  up  an'  gittin'  the  boy's  things 
kinder  decent.  But,  Miss  Betty,  the  boy  has 
got  to  have  a  Chrismus  stockin'." 

"Of  course,"  cried  Betty.  "You  can  put 
some  apples  and  oranges  and  nuts  in  it." 

"An'  Cesar  an'  me  kin  give  him  a  quarter 
apiece  to'des  a  new  pair  of  shoes.  His  shoes 
am'  nothin'  'tall." 

Betty  dived  into  her  dressing-table  drawer 
and  took  out  of  her  little  purse  a  dollar  bill. 

"And  this  is  from  Grandfather,  for  the 
shoes,  too.  He  would  never  forgive  us  if 
something  wasn't  put  into  the  boy's  stocking 
from  him.  Now,  what  can  I  think  of  to  give 
him?" 

"He  ain'  got  no  collar  nor  cravat,"  said 
Aunt  Tulip.  "He  would  look  right  nice  to- 
morrer  if  he  jes'  had  a  collar  and  cravat." 

Betty  was  well  off  in  collars,  and  produced 
four.  Then,  unfastening  the  scarlet  ribbon 
from  around  her  waist,  she  seized  her  needle 
and  thimble,  and  in  five  minutes  had  sewed 
the  ribbon  into  a  large  and  very  presentable 

69 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

cravat,  and  proceeded  to  fringe  out  the  ends. 
Aunt  Tulip  watched  her  with  delighted  eyes. 

"Lord!"  she  said,  "that  chile  will  be 
tickled  to  death  when  he  gits  his  Chrismus' 
stockin'.  An*  you  know,  Miss  Betty,  I  been 
thinkin'  that  boy  could  be  mighty  useful  at 
Holly  Lodge,  pickin'  up  chips  and  carryin' 
the  wood  upstairs  and  huntin*  up  the 
turkeys." 

"I  think  so,  too,"  replied  Betty,  rolling  up 
the  cravat  and  the  collars.  "  If  he  is  any  good, 
he  could  save  you  and  Uncle  Cesar  a  great 
many  steps." 

Presently,  Betty  was  in  her  little  white  bed 
for  a  short  nap,  because  she  could  not  think 
of  not  being  up  and  dressed  on  Christmas 
morning,  although  she  had  danced  twenty-five 
miles  between  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening 
and  five  in  the  morning.  Aunt  Tulip,  too,  took 
what  she  called  her  "cat  nap,"  and  at  eight 
o'clock  on  Christmas  morning  everything 
was  awake  and  stirring  at  Holly  Lodge. 


V-;^H 


CHAPTER  VII 

FORTESCUE  AND  ROSES  AND 
BIRDSEYE 

THE  Christmas  sun  was  shining  brilliantly, 
and  it  was  not  so  desperately  cold  as  the  day 
before.  Betty  had  hopes  that  the  thin  skim 
of  snow  would  melt,  so  that  the  scent  would 
lie  for  the  fox-hunt  the  next  morning.  She 
ran  downstairs  as  soon  as  she  was  dressed, 
and  found  the  Colonel  standing  on  the  hearth- 
rug, his  back  to  the  fire,  and  his  eyes  turned 
resolutely  away  from  Rosehill.  Betty  kissed 
him  all  over  his  face,  and  commanded  him 
to  be  cheerful,  as  everybody  should  be  on 
Christmas  morning.  Then  Aunt  Tulip  and 
Uncle  Cesar  were  called  in  for  their  simple 
gifts,  and  Kettle  appeared  with  them,  his 

71 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

clothes  clean  and  respectable-looking.  There 
was  much  talk  between  the  Colonel  and  Uncle 
Cesar  over  Christmas  days  long  past,  and  the 
Colonel,  whatever  his  heart  might  be,  carried 
out  to  the  letter  Betty's  injunction  to  be 
cheerful.  As  for  Kettle,  the  sight  of  his 
Christmas  stocking  and  his  treasures,  the 
collars  and  the  gorgeous  red  cravat,  and  the 
magnificent  prospect  of  a  pair  of  new  shoes, 
completely  overwhelmed  him.  He  could  only 
look  first  at  Betty  and  then  at  Aunt  Tulip, 
and  say  to  himself : 

"This  is  the  fust  Chrismus  I  ever  see;  the 
fust  Chrismus  I  ever  see." 

"Didn't  you  ever  have  a  Christmas  stock- 
ing before,  Kettle?"  asked  Betty. 

"Naw,  Miss,"  answered  Kettle.  "I  done 
heah  'bout  'em,  but  I  ain't  never  had  none 
befo'." 

Kettle's  bliss  was  further  augmented  when 
Aunt  Tulip  put  a  standing  collar  around  his 
neck  and  tied  the  flaming  red  necktie  under 
his  chin.  All  was  then  swallowed  up  in 
Kettle's  rapture  over  his  own  appearance. 
He  stood  before  the  old-fashioned  mirror  over 
the  pier  table,  his  head  barely  reaching  the 
top;  his  mouth  came  open  as  if  it  were  on 
hinges,  his  eyes  danced  in  his  head,  and  words 
failed  him.  There  are  moments  of  rapture 
when  speech  is  a  superfluity,  and  so  it  was 

72 


FORTESCUE  AND  ROSES  AND  BIRDSEYE 

with  Kettle  when  he  beheld  himself  in  his  first 
cravat,  and  that  a  large  one  of  brilliant  red. 

"Now,  boy,"  said  Aunt  Tulip  severely, 
who  did  not  believe  in  wasting  indulgences  on 
boys,  "now  that  Miss  Betty  and  ole  Marse 
done  been  so  good  to  you,  you  got  to  do  all 
you  kin  to  holp  along.  You  got  to  pick  up 
chips  an'  fotch  water  an'  black  ole  Marse 's 
shoes  an'  do  everything  you  know  how." 

"I  cert'n'y  will,"  answered  Kettle  fer- 
vently. And  then  the  divine  spirit  of  grati- 
tude appeared  in  his  eyes,  and  he  said : 

"An'  I  ain'  gwine  to  fergit  that  you  washed 
my  clo'es." 

"An'  washed  you,  too,"  replied  Aunt 
Tulip.  "An'  you  got  to  do  it  yourself  ever}7 
day,  or  I'll  see  to  you." 

This  awful  and  indefinite  threat  impressed 
Kettle  with  a  wholesome  fear  of  the  most 
harmless  creature  on  earth — Aunt  Tulip. 

Then  breakfast  was  served,  and  Kettle  re- 
ceived his  first  lessons  in  bringing  in  batter- 
cakes.  In  the  intervals  between  the  relays  of 
hot  batter-cakes,  Kettle  glued  his  eyes  to  Ms 
own  image  in  the  glass  with  a  vanity  second 
only  to  that  of  Narcissus. 

Of  course,  the  Colonel  had  to  hear  all  about 
the  party,  and  who  was  there,  and  if  the  regu- 
lation Christmas  festivities  were  thoroughly 
carried  out. 

73 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

"Once,"  said  the  Colonel,  "we  celebrated 
Christmas  that  way  at  Rosehill,  with  an  un- 
stinted hospitality.  Now " 

"Haven't  I  told  you,"  cried  Betty,  sternly 
from  across  the  table,  "that  you  were  not  to 
make  a  single  complaint  against  Fate  on 
Christmas  Day!  Didn't  I  tell  you  yesterday 
I  knew  this  was  going  to  be  the  pleasantest 
Christmas  I  ever  had?  So  far  it  certainly 
has  been.  The  dance  last  night  was  the  most 
heavenly  thing — my  gown  is  in  ribbons,  but 
I  can  mend  it  up  all  right,  and  put  in  a  couple 
of  new  breadths  later  in  the  week.  And  Mr. 
Fortescue  told  me  he  thought  that  a  white 
muslin  gown  at  Christmas  time,  with  scarlet 
ribbons  and  a  wreath  of  geranium  leaves, 
with  moss  rosebuds,  was  the  most  beautiful 
and  poetic  costume  a  girl  could  wear. ' ' 

The  Colonel 's  white  teeth  showed  under  his 
trim  gray  moustache. 

"Fortescue  knows  how  to  pay  compliments, 
my  dear, ' '  he  said. 

"All  right,"  cried  Betty.  "A  man  who 
doesn't  know  how  to  pay  compliments  and 
isn't  equal  to  telling  colossal  fibs  to  the  girl 
he  is  dancing  with,  isn't  the  man  for  me." 

When  breakfast  was  over  Uncle  Cesar 
brought  in  the  only  melancholy  news  of  the 
day.  Old  Whitey  had  gone  lame,  and  there 
was  no  going  to  church  that  day,  nor  was  it 

74 


FORTESCUE  AND  ROSES  AND  BIRDSEYE 

likely  that  he  would  be  fit  to  ride  the  next 
day  at  the  hunt.  Betty  sighed  deeply.  The 
crust  of  snow  was  rapidly  disappearing,  and 
the  ground  would  be  in  good  condition  for  the 
hunt.  However,  Betty  was  of  a  hopeful  na- 
ture, and  felt  sure  that  a  horse  would  drop 
down  out  of  the  clouds  for  her  to  ride. 


The  Christmas  dinner  was  to  be  served  at 
the  old-fashioned  hour  of  four  o'clock,  so 
when  breakfast  was  over  and  Betty  had  paid 
a  visit  to  old  Whitey,  she  went  up  to  her  room 
and,  throwing  herself  upon  her  bed,  began  to 
make  up  her  lost  arrears  of  sleep.  The  Colo- 
nel was  downstairs  absorbed  in  his  new  his- 
tories, which  Betty  had  given  him  for  his 
Christmas  gift,  and  Betty  slept  peacefully 
until  it  was  quite  three  o'clock,  and  the  winter 
sun  was  beginning  to  decline.  Then,  as  she 
lay  awake  thinking  pleasant  thoughts,  her 

75 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

door  was  noiselessly  opened,  and  Kettle  ap- 
peared above  his  red  cravat,  carrying  a  big 
bouquet  of  white  roses.  He  laid  the  roses 
down  on  Betty's  pillow,  and  said: 

"The  gent 'man  who  fotch  'em  is  down- 
stairs— Mr.  Fortescue." 

Betty  sat  up  and  buried  her  face  in  the  fresh 
roses.  She  knew  them  well.  They  came  from 
the  greenhouse  at  Eosehill,  and  she  herself 
had  taught  them  to  bloom  late  and  lux- 
uriantly. 

* '  Tell  the  gentleman  I  will  be  down  imme- 
diately," she  said,  and  then,  running  to  her 
mirror,  proceeded  to  make  a  fetching  toilette 
out  of  very  simple  elements.  Her  well  fitting 
dark  blue  gown  set  off  her  slender  figure,  and 
when  she  came  into  the  sitting-room,  carrying 
her  huge  bunch  of  roses,  Fortescue,  who  sat 
talking  to  the  Colonel,  thought  she  looked  like 
a  peach  ripening  on  the  southern  wall. 

"I  thank  you  so  much,"  said  Betty  sweetly 
to  Fortescue.  "I  tended  the  roses  in  the 
greenhouse  at  Eosehill  as  long  as  we  lived 
there.  We  have  no  greenhouse  here,  so  we 
couldn't  bring  the  rose-bushes  with  us.  But 
I  always  had  roses  for  Christmas." 

"And  I  hope  you  will  always  have  roses  for 
Christmas,"  replied  Fortescue  gallantly. 

Then  they  sat  and  talked  gaily  together  as 
young  people  do,  of  dances  and  hunting  and 

76 


FORTESCUE  AND  ROSES  AND  BIRDSEYE 

all  of  the  great  affairs  of  youth,  the  Colonel 
putting  in  a  word  occasionally.  Fortescue 
was  lucky  enough  to  be  asked  to  all  the  Christ- 
mas parties. 

"I  should  like,"  he  said,  "to  give  a  party 
at  Rosehill,  but  I  don't  know  how.  I  am  only 
a  man,  you  know.  I  should  wish  to  do  it  right, 


but  I  am  afraid  I  can't  make  it  quite  as  it 
ought  to  be  on  short  notice.  Now,  next  Christ- 
mas, if  I  can  get  leave,  I  will  have  a  party, 
too.  That  is,  if  you,  Miss  Betty,  will  help 
me." 

The  Colonel  liked  the  modesty  of  this 
speech,  and  at  once  said  that  Betty  would 
help. 

Then  Betty  told  the  melancholy  story  of 

77 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

old  Whitey's  lameness.  Fortunately,  Sally 
Carteret,  knowing  that  old  Whitey  had  to  be 
saved  for  the  hunt,  had  invited  Betty  to  go 
with  her  to  the  party  that  evening  at  Red 
Plains,  which  was  close  by. 

"Do  you  mean,"  asked  Fortescue,  "that 
vou  are  to  miss  the  hunt?" 


"  I  am  afraid  so, ' '  said  poor  Betty  dolefully. 

"But  that  isn't  to  be  thought  of,"  cried 
Fortescue.  "I  have  several  horses  at  Rose- 
hill,  and  I  can  give  you  a  mount.  Birdseye, 
that  I  rode  over  here,  is  the  gentlest  and 
kindest  horse  that  ever  stepped.  Although 
not  a  regular  hunter,  she  can  get  along  the 
road  and  over  the  fences  all  right." 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Betty,  jumping  up,  "do 
let  me  see  her!  Granddaddy,  may  I  ride 
Birdseye  to-morrow  morning  ? ' ' 

The  Colonel  hesitated  a  moment. 

"I  should  require,  my  love,"  he  said,  "to 

78 


FORTESCUE  AND  ROSES  AND  BIRDSEYE 

see  Birdseye.  Perhaps  she  has  never  had  a 
side-saddle  on  her,  or  known  what  a  riding- 
skirt  is." 

"We  can  try  her,"  suggested  Fortescue. 

Betty  ran  out  into  the  little  hall,  and,  pick- 
ing up  a  red  scarf,  threw  it  over  her  head, 
calling  back  to  the  Colonel : 

"Don't  you  dare,  Granddaddy,  to  come  out 
on  the  porch.  You  can  see  from  the  window. ' ' 

Forttscue  was  not  a  foot  behind  Betty,  and 
they  both  ran  to  where  Birdseye,  dancing  to 
keep  herself  warm,  stood  under  a  great  holly 
tree.  From  the  kitchen  window  peeped  a 
little  round,  black  face. 

"We  can  try  Birdseye  with  that  little  black 
boy,"  said  Fortescue.  "She  wouldn't  hurt  a 
baby." 

Betty  beckoned  to  Kettle,  who  came  out 
willingly  enough,  his  constitutional  grin  over- 
spreading his  face. 

"Run  to  the  stable  and  get  a  horse- 
blanket,"  said  Betty,  which  Kettle  proceeded 
to  do,  and  returned  in  a  couple  of  minutes. 

But  Kettle's  face  suddenly  changed  when 
Fortescue,  catching  him  by  the  shoulder, 
wrapped  the  horse-blanket  around  him  as  if 
it  were  a  skirt,  and  Betty  supplied  a  couple 
of  hair-pins  with  which  to  fasten  it.  Then 
Fortescue,  flinging  the  boy  on  Birdseye 's 
back,  put  the  reins  in  his  hand,  saying: 

79 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

"Now,  you  little  scamp,  gallop  around  the 
lawn. ' ' 

Kettle,  his  scared  eyes  nearly  bouncing  out 
of  his  little  black  face,  his  grin  wholly  disap- 
peared, was  quite  incapable  of  taking  a  gallop 
around  the  lawn  of  his  own  initiative.  He 
clung  desperately  to  the  reins,  and  began  to 
stutter. 

"G-g-g-g-ood  Gord  A 'mighty,  Miss  Betty! 
I's  jes'  skeered  to  death  of  this  heah  hoss!" 

Birdseye,  however,  well  bred,  well  behaved, 
and  intelligent,  paid  no  attention  to  the 
squirming,  frightened  burden  upon  her 
shapely  back.  Fortescue,  taking  her  by  the 
bridle,  led  her  to  the  paling  around  the  little 
lawn,  and  then,  with  a  twig  broken  from  a 
big  holly  tree,  gave  her  a  sharp  cut  on  the 
flank.  Birdseye  knew  what  was  expected, 
and,  rising,  she  made  a  beautiful  standing 
jump  over  the  paling.  At  that  Kettle,  with  a 
yell,  dropped  the  reins  and  grabbed  the  mare 
around  the  neck  with  both  arms.  Not  even 
this  could  disturb  Birdseye 's  admirable 
poise.  Fortescue  himself  made  a  standing 
leap  over  the  paling  and,  running  Birdseye 
around,  made  her  do  another  beautiful  jump 
over  the  paling.  By  that  time,  not  even  fear 
of  Fortescue  or  love  of  Betty  could  keep 
Kettle  on  Birdseye 's  back  another  minute. 
As  soon  as  she  came  to  a  standstill,  he  tore 
so 


FORTESCUE  AND  ROSES  AND  BIRDSEYE 

off  the  horse-blanket  and,  dropping  to  the 
ground,  ran  as  fast  as  his  short  legs  could 
carry  him  into  the  kitchen,  and  disappeared. 

The  Colonel,  who  was  watching  from  the 
window,  tapped  his  approval  on  the  window- 
pane.  Fortescue  then  mounted,  and,  riding 
off  some  distance  in  the  field,  came  back  at  a 
swinging  gallop,  and  Birdseye  took  the  paling 
most  beautifully  in  her  stride,  flying  over  it 
like  a  bird.  Betty  immediately  fell  deeply  in 
love  with  Birdseye,  and  declared  that  she 
must  go  upstairs  and  put  on  her  habit,  and 
test  the  horse  for  herself.  In  a  little  while, 
she  came  down,  more  bewitching  than  ever  to 
Fortescue 's  eyes,  in  her  trim  black  habit  and 
little  beaver  hat. 

Fortescue,  mindful  of  Colonel  Beverley's 
scrutiny,  put  Betty  on  horseback  in  the  old 
way,  by  taking  her  slim  foot  in  his  hand,  and 
Betty  stiffening  her  knee  and  rising  into  the 
side-saddle,  which  had  been  put  on  Birdseye 's 
back.  Betty  did  the  standing  leap  beautifully 
half  a  dozen  times,  and  then,  riding  off  in  the 
field,  turned  and  came  back,  and  Birdseye 
made  a  running  leap  like  the  flight  of  a  lap- 
wing. Fortescue  had  no  doubt  that  Betty 
was  quite  safe  by  her  own  horsemanship  on 
Birdseye 's  back.  They  were  so  interested  in 
their  pastime  that  they  forgot  the  passing  of 
the  hours.  The  Christmas  dinner  at  Holly 

6  81 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

Lodge  was  served  at  four  o'clock,  and  just 
before  the  hour  Uncle  Cesar  came  out  of  the 
house  and  said  with  a  courtly  bow  to  For- 
tescue : 

"Ole  Marse,  he  say  it  is  mos'  fou'  o'clock, 
an'  you  mus'  come  in  an'  have  Christmas 
dinner  with  Miss  Betty  an'  him." 

Fortescue  demurred  a  little,  meaning  all 
the  while  to  accept.  His  riding  clothes  were 
hardly  suitable,  he  said.  But  Betty  clinched 
the  matter  by  saying  to  Uncle  Cesar : 

"Tell  the  Colonel  that  Mr.  Fortescue  will 
stay  to  dinner,  and  hopes  his  riding  clothes 
will  be  excused." 

There  was  just  time  for  Betty  to  skip  up- 
stairs and  jump  into  a  little  gown  of  a  pale 
and  jocund  yellow,  with  an  open  neck,  around 
which  she  hung  the  Colonel 's  Christmas  gift, 
the  little  locket.  The  elbow  sleeves  showed 
her  dimpled  arms,  and  with  deliberate 
coquetry  she  put  in  her  shining  hair  one  of 
the  white  roses  Fortescue  had  brought  her, 
and  another  over  her  innocent  and  affection- 
ate little  heart.  When  she  entered  the  sit- 
ting-room, which  served  also  as  a  dining- 
room,  Betty  was  justly  triumphant.  She 
knew  that  she  was  looking  her  best. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  PAST 

THERE  was  not  much  money  at  Holly  Lodge, 
but  Christmas  dinners  were  ridiculously 
cheap,  and  some  of  earth's  choicest  products 
lay  almost  at  the  door  of  the  little  house. 
Fortescue  thought  he  had  never  seen  so  noble 
a  turkey  or  such  captivating  oysters,  and 
when  the  plum  pudding  was  brought  in  with  a 
sprig  of  holly  stuck  in  it  and  surrounded  by 
a  sea  of  fire,  he  hypocritically  pretended  he 
had  never  before  seen  anything  like  it. 

He  settled  the  question  of  his  absence  from 
Bosehill  and  his  guests,  by  saying  deb- 
onairly : 

85 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

"  Those  fellows  at  Eosehill  will  get  along 
all  right.  With  a  soldier,  one  must  catch 
pleasure  on  the  wing.  And  every  one  of  the 
fellows  would  stay,  just  as  I  do,  if  they  had 
half  a  chance." 

"That  was  the  way  the  youngsters  talked 
in  my  time,"  said  the  Colonel,  laughing. 
"War  and  the  ladies,  eh?" 

The  Colonel  grew  reminiscent  of  past 
Christmas  days. 

"I  recollect  one  in  particular,"  he  said 
grimly:  "the  Christmas  of  '64  in  the  trenches 
at  Petersburg,  when  it  was  snowing  and  freez- 
ing and  hailing,  and  we  had  nothing  to  eat, 
and  death  and  defeat  stalked  with  us.  Don't 
you  remember  that  Christmas,  boy?"  asked 
the  Colonel  of  Uncle  Cesar. 

"God  knows  I  does,"  responded  Uncle 
Cesar  fervently. 

"That  boy,"  continued  the  Colonel,  indi- 
cating the  gray-haired  Cesar,  "was  my  body- 
servant  during  the  whole  war.  He  is  an 
arrant  coward,  and  would  run  away  if  he 
thought  there  was  a  Yankee  within  five  miles. ' ' 

Uncle  Cesar  bore  this  imputation  upon  his 
personal  courage  with  a  broad  grin. 

"I  warn't  no  soldier-man,  ole  Marse,"  he 
explained.  "I  was  jes'  your  body-servant, 
and  I  was  skeered  of  Yankees,  and  I'se 
skeered  of  'em  now." 

84 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  PAST 

At  this,  Fortescue  laughed. 

"You  needn't  be  afraid  of  me,  Uncle 
Cesar,"  he  said. 

But  Uncle  Cesar  shook  his  head. 

"Yankees  is  mighty  cu'rrus.  In  the  war- 
time, they  jes'  as  soon  kill  a  man  as  wring  a 
chicken's  neck." 

"But  I  must  say,"  added  the  Colonel, 
"that  although  Cesar  always  disappeared 
promptly  as  soon  as  we  got  into  a  dangerous 
place,  he  invariably  turned  up  when  the 
trouble  was  over,  and  with  something  hot  for 
me  to  eat  or  something  to  drink — which  he 
called  coffee,  and  was  almost  as  good." 

"  'Twuz  parched  corn,  an'  taters  cut  up  an' 
roasted.  An'  mos'  in  gineral,  I  could  find 
somebody's  cow  to  milk  for  ole  Marse, "  Uncle 
Cesar  added  with  another  grin. 

The  Colonel  chuckled  at  this. 

"That  black  rascal,  sir,"  he  said,  indi- 
cating the  faithful  and  devoted  servitor, 
"could  milk  a  cow  into  a  bottle  and  never 
spill  a  drop.  But  there  weren't  any  cows  to 
rob  in  the  trenches  around  Petersburg  that 
Christmas  day  of  '64,  eh,  boy?" 

The  Colonel's  tone  was  joking,  but  in  his 
eyes,  as  they  met  those  of  his  gray-haired 
"boy,"  was  a  sombre  expression.  The  by- 
gone tragedy  rose  before  the  old  soldier  and 
his  "boy."  Once  more  they  saw  the  pinched 

85 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

faces  of  the  starving  soldiers,  the  scanty  por- 
tions of  miserable  food,  the  agonies  of  cold 
and  hunger,  and  from  the  far-off  years  came 
back  the  sullen  booming  of  the  cannon,  the 
frightful  shriek  of  the  bursting  shells,  the 
cracking  of  bullets.  "In  the  trenches" — the 
phrase  was  enough  to  raise  gruesome  ghosts 
and  awful  phantoms  from  their  bloody  graves. 

It  was  Betty  who  brought  the  two  old  men 
away  from  sad  Christmas  memories. 

''Well,  Granddaddy,"  she  said,  "it's  all 
over  now,  thank  heaven,  and  we  have  every- 
thing to  be  proud  of  on  both  sides.  I  am  so 
glad  that  I  am  a  soldier's  daughter,  and  so 
proud  when  I  can  say  so." 

At  that,  Fortescue,  who  quickly  adopted 
the  quaint  and  old-fashioned  customs  of  peo- 
ple like  Colonel  Beverley  and  Betty,  rose 
from  the  table  and  gave  Betty  a  military 
salute,  which  delighted  her  beyond  words. 

When  dinner  was  over,  Betty  insisted  that 
Fortescue  should  instruct  her  in  the  manual 
of  arms,  and,  with  a  broomstick  for  a  gun, 
Betty  went  through  with  the  whole  manual, 
to  the  Colonel's  intense  delight. 

1 '  By  George ! "  he  cried.  ' « She  would  make 
a  magnificent  recruit!" 

It  was  then  growing  dusk,  and  the  Colonel 
reminded  Betty  that  it  was  the  usual  hour  she 
always  sang  to  her  harp  for  him.  Fortescue 

86 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  PAST 

took  the  green  baize  cover  off  the  harp,  and 
Betty  played  and  sang,  her  graceful  figure 
and  lovely,  rounded  arms  making  to  Fortes- 
cue  the  prettiest  picture  he  had  ever  seen. 


She  had  a  sweet,  untrained  voice,  like  a  bird 
in  the  forest,  and  sang  to  perfection  the  old- 
fashioned,  sentimental  songs  the  Colonel 
loved. 

Six  o'clock  came  all  too  soon,  and  Fortes- 
cue,  forced  to  remember  his  duties  as  host, 
at  last  reluctantly  rose  to  go.  They  were, 
however,  to  meet  in  a  few  hours  at  the  Bed 

87 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

Plains  ball.  As  Fortescue  galloped  along  the 
frozen  road  between  Holly  Lodge  and  Bose- 
hill,  he  thought  he  had  never  had  so  pleasant 
a  Christmas  day.  It  was  all  simple  and  inno- 
cent pleasure,  like  the  pastimes  of  children, 
but  it  was  not  the  less  joyous  and  satisfying 
on  that  account.  Fortescue  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  a  great  deal  of  beauty,  joy, 
charm,  goodness,  and  merriment,  and  even 
the  sublime  thing  called  "happiness,"  might 
be  found  in  a  little  brown  house  with  one 
sitting-room  and  one  chimney,  and  on  a  place 
with  only  one  cow  and  one  horse. 


CHAPTER  IX 
LOVE  AND  THE  CHASE 

WHILE  Betty  was  dressing,  with  Aunt 
Tulip  as  lady's  maid,  for  the  Red  Plains 
party,  the  subject  of  Kettle  was  under  dis- 
cussion. 

"That  chile,"  said  Aunt  Tulip,  "went  an' 
hide  hisself  as  soon  as  he  got  offen  Mr.  For- 
tescue's  hoss,  an'  when  I  went  to  hunt  fur 
him,  if  you  believe  me,  Miss  Betty,  I  foun' 
him  way  up  in  the  lof  over  the  kitchen, 
trimblin'  like  a  leaf,  an'  he  wouldn't  come 
down  'twell  he  see  Mr.  Fortescue  had  done 
rode  away.  Then  he  tell  Cesar  he  could  milk, 

89 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

an'  he  tooken  the  bucket  an'  went  out  an* 
milk  ole  Bossy  as  good  as  ever  you  see  a  cow 
milked  in  your  life,  an'  he  brung  in  enough 
wood  fur  the  whole  house,  an'  help  Cesar  to 
feed  ole  Whitey.  That  boy  is  mighty  in- 
dustr'ous." 

This  was  encouraging  news,  and  induced 
Betty  to  think  that  Kettle  would  certainly  be 
worth  his  keep. 

At  half  past  eight,  Sally  Carteret,  in  the 
big  family  carriage,  came  for  Betty,  and  the 
two  girls  drove  over  to  Red  Plains.  The  ball 
was  a  replica  of  the  dance  at  Marrowbone. 
It  is  not  often  in  life  that  one  can  live  over 
so  much  as  a  single  hour  of  happiness,  but 
Betty  lived  over  a  whole  evening  of  joy. 
There  was  Fortescue,  who  claimed  her  hand 
ruthlessly  for  many  dances,  and  his  brother 
officers,  who  were  scarcely  less  fascinating  to 
Betty,  and  the  University  students,  who  as- 
sumed great  intimacy  upon  short  acquaint- 
ance, and  old  friends,  with  whom  she  had 
danced  at  dancing  school.  And  there  was  the 
same  merriment  and  the  same  music — Isaac 
Minkins  and  Uncle  Cesar  with  their  fiddles, 
and  the  colored  youth  with  his  "lap  organ" 
—and  the  same  kind  of  supper,  the  same  kind 
of  eggnog,  and  the  same  songs,  and  the  same 
hearty  Christmas  spirit.  The  dance,  though, 
did  not  last  so  late,  as  the  hunt  would  begin 

90 


.      LOVE  AND  THE  CHASE 

early  in  the  morning,  and  Betty  was  back  at 
Holly  Lodge  and  in  bed  by  two  o'clock.  She 
had  warned  Aunt  Tulip  not  to  disturb  her- 
self so  early  to  make  a  fire  for  Betty  to  dress 
by,  but  to  send  Kettle.  At  half  past  five, 
Kettle  knocked  at  Betty's  door,  and  in  two 
minutes  a  gorgeous  fire  called  Betty  from  her 
bed.  At  six  o'clock  in  the  wintry  morning, 
just  as  Betty  was  pulling  on  her  gauntlets, 
she  heard  the  tramp  of  horses'  hoofs  under 
her  window.  Uncle  Cesar  had  the  side-saddle 
ready,  and  when  Betty  went  downstairs,  For- 
tescue  was  tightening  the  girths  on  Birdseye. 
As  the  Colonel  was  not  there  to  watch,  For- 
tescue,  in  the  darkness,  took  Betty's  slender 
waist  in  his  hands  and  swung  her,  by  the 
modern  fashion,  into  the  saddle.  Although 
it  was  still  cold,  the  icy  grip  had  moderated 
a  little,  and  the  ground  was  clear.  Betty  and 
Fortescue  galloped  along  in  the  ghostly  dark- 
ness, saying  little,  but  with  a  delightful  feel- 
ing of  nearness  and  aloneness. 

The  day  was  breaking  when  they  dis- 
mounted before  the  great  portico  at  Bend- 
over.  The  huntsmen  were  gathering  rapidly, 
and  there  were  several  ladies  to  join  the  hunt. 
Negro  boys  were  leading  the  steaming  horses 
up  and  down,  while  the  huntsmen  passed  into 
the  hospitable  house.  Breakfast  was  smok- 
ing on  the  table,  and  there  was  a  constant 

91 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

procession  of  hot  coffee  from  the  kitchen, 
with  the  inevitable  five  kinds  of  bread  which 
Virginia  hospitality  imperatively  requires 
for  breakfast.  There  were  so  many  dishes 
that  the  long  table  would  not  accommodate 
them,  and  there  was  a  semicircle  of  oysters, 
sausage,  deviled  bones,  and  other  substantials 
around  the  broad  open  hearth.  The  break- 
fast, though  plentiful,  was  hurried,  so  that 
the  start  could  be  made  before  the  sun  dried 
the  rime  off  the  ground.  Everybody  laughed 
and  talked  and  nobody  listened.  In  half  an 
hour  they  were  crowding  out  upon  the  lawn 
to  mount.  As  it  was  a  Christmas  hunt,  every 
horse  carried  in  his  headstall  a  sprig  of  holly 
berries.  Of  the  half-dozen  girls  present, 
each  had  her  special  cavalier,  Fortescue,  of 
course,  being  the  escort  of  Betty  on  her  new 
mount.  The  hounds,  impatient  to  be  off, 
yelped  fretfully  as  they  trotted  about  with 
their  noses  to  the  ground,  sniffing  eagerly. 
The  horses,  knowing  what  was  up,  were  keen 
to  stretch  their  legs.  That  day's  quarry  was 
to  be  a  very  astute  old  red  fox,  which  had 
devastated  many  chicken-coops  in  the  smaller 
homesteads  in  the  highlands,  as  the  slightly 
rolling  country  beyond  the  river  shore  was 
called. 

At  last  the  hunt  was  off  for  a  screeching 
run.    About  four  miles  from  Bendover,  Bat- 

92 


LOVE  AND  THE  CHASE 

tier,  the  Nestor  of  the  pack  of  hounds,  caught 
the  scent,  and,  lifting  his  head,  gave  one  short, 
loud  yelp  of  triumph,  and  then  dashed  away, 
making  straight  for  a  straggling  skirt  of 
woods.  There  was  a  rough  cart-road  through 


?*f*k 

*•  -•^.f*? 


it,  and  along  this  the  huntsmen  galloped,  the 
dogs  crying  near  to  them.  Fortescue  rode 
close  to  Betty's  pommel.  Birdseye  main- 
tained her  character,  and  Betty  thought  she 
had  never  known  so  good  a  mount.  It  had 
been  Fortescue 's  expectation  that  Betty 
would  be  merely  a  spectator  of  the  hunt,  but 
with  such  a  horse  as  Birdseye  under  her 
Betty  rode  straight  and  followed  the  hounds. 
The  scent  lay  across  the  open  fields  and  strag- 
gling woodlands,  and  was  not  particularly 
rough,  but  Betty  took  all  that  came  in  her 
way.  Birdseye  was  naturally  a  beautiful 
jumper,  and,  like  many  horses,  took  to  the 

93 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

sport  with  joy.  Fortescue  admired  Betty's 
lithe  figure  on  the  galloping  horse,  her  deli- 
cate cheeks  deeply  flushed,  and  the  little  vag- 
rant tendrils  of  hair,  escaped  from  her  filmy 
veil,  streaming  upon  the  air. 

There  was  a  roaring  run  of  an  hour,  and 
then,  in  the  midst  of  an  open  place  in  the 
woods,  the  scent  was  lost.  The  huntsmen 
pulled  up,  and  the  hounds,  at  fault,  rushed 


whimpering  from  one  spot  to  another.  The 
horses  were  breathed,  but  Birdseye's  wind, 
like  everything  else  about  her,  was  admirable, 
and  she  was  impatient  to  be  off  again.  After 
half  an  hour  of  uncertainty,  the  hounds  run- 
ning hither  and  yon,  the  trail  was  again 
struck,  and  the  whole  pack,  led  by  Rattler, 
went  shrieking  on  their  way,  in  full  cry. 
There  was  another  hour's  hard  run,  and 
then,  close  to  a  little  farmhouse,  and  on  the 

94 


LOVE  AND  THE  CHASE 

edge  of  the  poultry  yard  where  the  red  fox 
had  found  his  prey,  he  met  the  doom  of  jus- 
tice. The  dogs  closed  in  upon  him,  and  al- 
though the  fox,  vicious  to  the  last,  snarled 
and  bit  furiously,  the  day  of  vengeance  was  at 
hand.  At  that  moment  every  huntsman  put 
spurs  to  his  horse,  that  he  might  be  first  in 
at  the  death,  but  to  Fortescue  this  honor  came. 
The  master  of  the  hunt  rode  up  and  dis- 
mounted. There  was  no  ceremony  of  throw- 
ing his  whip  upon  the  ground,  for  the  foxes 
were  really  pests,  and  were  meant  to  be  de- 
stroyed. The  scoundrel  fox  by  that  time  lay 
dead  upon  the  ground,  and  the  master  handed 
his  knife  to  Fortescue,  who  cut  off  the  brush, 
a  splendid  one,  thick  and  long.  Betty's  heart 
beat  as  she  rode  up  with  the  others.  The 
master  was  on  the  ground,  patting  and  en- 
couraging the  dogs.  Fortescue  was  also  on 
the  ground.  The  presentation  of  the  brush 
could  not  take  place  until  it  had  been  washed 
and  prepared,  but  a  word  or  two  and  a  look 
from  Fortescue 's  laughing  eyes  conveyed  to 
Betty  that  she  was  to  receive  the  honor. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  FLYING  FEET  OF  THE 
DANCERS 

IT  was  now  after  ten  o  'clock,  and,  although 
they  had  ridden  a  good  fifteen  miles,  much 
of  it  had  been  in  a  circle,  and  they  were  not 
more  than  five  miles  from  Bendover.  Sally 
Carteret  led  the  procession  back  to  Bendover, 
along  the  country  roads,  in  the  clear  wintry 
noon.  The  farmers  and  their  wives  came 
running  out  to  their  gates  to  know  if  the  fox 
was  killed,  and  rejoiced  to  know  that  he  was 
dead  on  the  very  scene  of  his  iniquities. 

The  sharp  air  and  the  exciting  exercise  had 
fired  the  blood  of  all.  They  laughed  and  sang, 

96 


THE  FEET  OF  THE  DANCERS 

and  the  gentlemen  complimented  the  ladies 
upon  their  pluck,  and  got  compliments  in  re- 
turn. Fortescue  thought  that  the  clock  of  the 
centuries  had  turned  back — it  was  so  quaint, 
so  old-fashioned.  The  modern,  eager,  bus- 


tling,  anxious  world  was  forgotten ;  it  was  like 
the  hunting  and  hawking  of  the  eighteenth 
century. 

The  cavalcade  rode  onto  the  lawn  at  Bend- 
over  soon  after  twelve  o  'clock.  Other  guests 
had  arrived  by  that  time,  and  then  was  served 
the  real  hunt  breakfast.  The  hunting  people 
had  the  keen  appetites  that  are  bred  by  five 
hours  in  the  saddle  on  a  wintry  day,  and 
swarmed  merrily  into  the  dining-room,  where 
the  long  table  was  again  set  out  with  the  inev- 

7  97 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

itable  deviled  turkey,  oysters,  old  hams,  and 
all  the  seductions  of  a  Virginia  hunt  breakfast. 
When  at  last  breakfast  was  over,  the  brush, 
which  had  been  cleaned  and  rudely  mounted 
in  a  wooden  splint,  was  brought  in,  and  For- 
tescue,  with  a  little  speech  presented  it  to 
Betty.  Then,  somebody  began  the  old  hunt- 
ing song  of  "John  Peel,"  which  accompanies 
the  ceremony  of  presenting  the  brush,  and  a 
rousing  chorus  rang  out — it  is  easy  to  start 
a  rousing  chorus  at  Christmas  time  in  Vir- 
ginia, especially  when  the  memory  of  John 
Peel  is  recalled  at  a  Christmas  hunt. 


1 D'  ye  ken  John  Peel,  d'  ye  ken  John  Peel, 

With   his   horse   and    his    hounds    in   the   morning? 
His  view-halloo  will  awaken  the  day, 

Or  the  fox  from  his  lair  in  the  morning." 


Sally  Carteret  went  to  the  piano  in  the 
drawing-room  and  began  to  play  a  waltz. 
That  was  enough.  In  half  a  minute  every  girl 
in  the  party  was  waltzing  with  her  cavalier, 
in  the  big  uncarpeted  hall.  The  girls  who  had 
ridden  to  the  hounds  tucked  up  their  short 
riding-skirts  and  danced  energetically,  for  a 
Virginia  girl  is  born  and  lives  dancing.  Of 
course,  Fortescue  had  the  first  waltz  with 
Betty,  and  saw  in  her  eyes  a  shy  kindness  that 
thrilled  him.  When  Sally  Carteret  had  done 
her  duty  at  the  piano,  another  girl  took  her 

98 


THE  FEET  OF  THE  DANCERS 

place  conscientiously,  and  gave  Sally  her 
chance  with  the  gentlemen,  especially  Shel- 
don, one  of  the  young  officers  who  were  guests 
at  Bosehill,  and  who  had  developed  an  admi- 
ration for  .Sally  scarcely  inferior  to  Fortes- 
cue's  for  Betty  Beverley. 

The  dancing  kept  up  for  an  hour  or  two, 
but  as  there  was  a  ball  ahead  for  that  night, 
and  for  every  night  that  week,  the  party  dis- 
persed by  three  o'clock.  Some  went  home, 
others  were  quartered  in  the  neighborhood, 
for  the  Virginia  houses  were  always  wide 
open  to  guests  for  the  night  as  well  as  for  the 
day. 

Betty,  with  the  fox-brush  fastened  to  her 
pommel,  rode  back  in  triumph  to  Holly 
Lodge,  escorted  by  Fortescue  and  his  three 
guests.  The  Colonel  hobbled  out  with  his 
stick  to  greet  Betty,  and  afar  off  down  the 
little  lane  Betty  saw  him,  and  waved  the  brush 
at  him  triumphantly.  When  the  party  rode 
up  to  the  little  porch,  Fortescue  flung  him- 
self off  his  horse  and  assisted  Betty. 

"See,  Granddaddy!"  cried  Betty,  running 
up  the  steps  and  shaking  the  brush  at  the 
Colonel.  ' '  Mr.  Fortescue  won  it  and  gave  it 
to  me." 

"Most  complimentary  of  Mr.  Fortescue," 
said  the  Colonel,  giving  a  splendid  military 
salute  to  Fortescue. 

99 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

The  Colonel  was  glad  that  his  little  grand- 
daughter had  received  the  compliment,  be- 
cause, being  more  worldly  wise  than  Betty,  he 
understood  what  the  fall  meant  from  Rosehill 
to  Holly  Lodge.  But  the  kind  and  hospitable 
county  people  saw  no  difference,  and  Betty 


Beverley  of  Holly  Lodge  received  the  same 
attentions  as  Betty  Beverley  of  Rosehill. 

The  Colonel  invited  the  young  officers  in  to 
have  a  toddy,  to  which  they  promptly  agreed, 
eating  and  drinking  and  dancing  being  obli- 
gations of  a  high  order  in  that  community. 
The  Colonel,  standing  grandly,  glass  in  hand, 
gave  his  favorite  toast : 

"Gentlemen,  accept  the  assurances  of  my 
distinguished  consideration." 
100 


THE  FEET  OF  THE  DANCERS 


Then,  with  many  promises  to  meet  again 
that  evening,  and  engagements  for  dances, 
Fortescue  and  his  friends  mounted  and  rode 
away,  and  Betty,  after  telling  the  Colonel  the 
incidents  of  the  hunt,  went  up  to  her  little 
room  to  catch  a  few  hours  of  sleep ;  for  sleep 
had  to  be  caught  at  odd  times  during  Christ- 
mas week.  ^ 


,^w  -,  r^^fcr,, 

°0  "UCf  ^  ^  a  ^       'f-t'  4*  £•    ^  v 
^          '^  ]$$*&+»  t*%4     $$*  *+ 

£'  ^^s^&^*^^xSS^S^ 

«>-s«  ^..iiififetfSsafe&TiL^fc.i^  >T#™££4~?   *• 


p<rf.Sh 

g/K  V'* 


Again  that  night  and  every  night  was  a 
dance,  each  a  repetition  of  the  other,  for  there 
was  not  much  room  for  variety,  and  the  same 
resources  were  at  the  command  of  all.  For- 
tescue, imbibing  the  hearty  spirit  of  the  com- 
munity, longed,  as  he  had  said  at  Holly 
Lodge,  to  have  a  ball  at  Rosehill,  but  a  cer- 
tain delicacy  and  tenderness  toward  Betty 
and  the  Colonel  hindered  him.  He  did  not 
like  to  assume  too  quickly  the  role  of  the 
master  of  Rosehill,  and,  then,  a  dream  was 
dawning  upon  him  of  a  ball  at  Rosehill,  where 
101 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

Betty  should  be  the  chatelaine  and  receive 
with  him.  They  made  great  strides  toward 
intimacy,  and  once  in  the  maze  of  the  last 
waltz  before  daybreak  Fortescue  chose  to  for- 
get the  "Miss"  to  Betty's  name  and  in  her 
ear  called  her  " Betty."  Betty  pretended  not 
to  hear  it,  but  it  thrilled  her  from  head  to 
foot. 

Fortescue  was  no  laggard  in  love,  but  he 
had  the  chivalrous,  old-fashioned  notion  that 
a  girl  was  to  be  courted,  and  that  he  had  to 
show  his  devotion  in  other  ways  than  by  many 
dances  with  Betty  and  visits  to  Holly  Lodge 
before  he  could  dare  to  ask  Betty  for  the 
royal  treasure  of  her  love.  Perhaps,  he 
thought,  in  six  months,  by  showing  her  un- 
varying attention  and  remembrance,  he  might 
dare  to  speak  the  winged  word,  and  possibly 
Betty  might  then  condescend  to  listen  to  him. 
For  Fortescue,  in  a  simple,  manly  way,  was 
as  unsophisticated  as  Betty.  Moreover,  he 
had  a  deadly  fear  of  the  Colonel,  and  con- 
sidered that  he  had  entered  upon  a  regular 
campaign,  instead  of  merely  attempting  a 
sortie  upon  the  enemy. 

On  the  afternoon  before  Fortescue 's  leave 
was  up,  he  proposed  a  skating  party  upon  the 
frozen  river.  There  were  few  skaters  among 
the  girls,  for  the  river  and  ice-ponds  were 
not  frozen  often  enough  to  incline  them  to  the 
102 


THE  FEET  OF  THE  DANCERS 

sport.  Betty,  however,  could  skate  prettily, 
especially  with  Fortescue's  arm  to  support 
her.  They  were  in  full  sight  of  the  windows 
of  Holly  Lodge,  the  Colonel,  who  knew  the 
ice  in  that  latitude  was  treacherous,  keeping 
his  eye  upon  the  figures  darting  back  and 
forth  upon  the  river.  Betty,  in  a  little  red 
hood,  was  bewitching.  Sally  Carteret  was 
the  only  other  girl  skater,  and  they  had  so 
many  cavaliers  that  it  was  difficult  to  have  a 
private  word  with  any. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  Fortescue  and  his 
friends  had  to  take  the  steamboat  which  had 
so  frightened  Kettle,  on  the  greater  river, 
where  the  channel  was  kept  open.  The  part- 
ing with  Betty  was  supposed  to  occur  on  the 
river-bank,  when  Betty  took  the  path  to  the 
little  brown  house,  and  Fortescue  went  to 
Rosehill  to  start  for  the  landing.  Fortescue 
had  time,  however,  to  escort  Betty  to  the  edge 
of  the  little  lawn  at  Holly  Lodge.  They  talked 
of  the  merry,  idle,  pleasant  nothings  which 
make  up  the  staple  of  youth,  until  they 
reached  the  edge  of  the  lawn.  The  Colonel, 
narrowly  watching  his  one  ewe  lamb,  saw  only 
Fortescue 's  low  bow,  his  hat  in  his  hand,  and 
knew  nothing  of  the  look  in  his  eyes,  and  the 
tender  pressure  of  Betty 's  hand,  and  his 
brief,  significant  words. 

"I  wouldn't  go,"  he  said,  "if  my  leave 

103 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

were  not  up ;  but  I  am  a  soldier,  and  a  soldier 
must  obey  orders.  Promise  that  you  won't 
forget  me." 

It  was  just  at  the  hour  that  one  week  before 
Betty  had  landed  from  the  table  in  Fortes- 
cue's  arms,  but  in  that  time  a  new  heaven  and 
a  new  earth  had  revealed  themselves  to  both 
of  them.  Betty  was  a  constitutional  and  in- 
curable coquette,  but  deep  in  her  heart  she 
was  the  soul  of  sincerity. 

"I  won't  forget  you,"  she  said  softly,  and 
Fortescue,  turning  and  walking  rapidly  back 
to  Rosehill,  felt  a  profound  satisfaction,  a 
delicious  confidence,  that  was  in  itself  happi- 
ness. How  faithful  was  Betty  to  the  gallant 
old  Colonel!  This  reflection  brought  some 
perplexities  into  Fortescue 's  mind,  but  he 
dismissed  them,  as  sturdy  young  soldiers  of 
twenty-five  can  throw  out  of  doors  unwelcome 
guests  in  the  guise  of  unwelcome  thoughts. 


Ik*.          w  ->V  ^ 


CHAPTER  XI 
THE  DREAM  OF  LOVE 

THE  Christmas  festivities  closed  with  a 
bang,  the  visitors  departed,  and  the  county 
settled  down  to  dullness  between  the  new 
year  and  the  springtime.  Those  of  the  young 
people  who  could,  went  away  to  the  cities  for 
the  gay  season.  Betty  Beverley  was  left  very 
much  alone,  but  this  she  did  not  mind.  In- 
deed, it  was  rather  a  respite  to  her.  Betty, 
like  all  her  kind,  had  a  heart,  and  was  brim- 
ming over  with  emotions.  Until  that  Christ- 
mas-time, her  heart  and  her  emotions  had 
been  her  sport,  and  she  had  gone  upon  her 
cruel  path  distributing  smiles  and  downcast 
glances  and  pretty  phrases  impartially, 
among  many  admirers.  But  the  coquette 
always  comes  to  grief  at  last,  and  is  throttled 
when  the  great  master  passion  awakes.  Betty 

105 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

was  still  coquettish  to  all  the  world  except 
to  Fortescue.  It  is  true  he  had  not  asked 
her  outright  to  marry  him,  but  Betty  rather 
liked  the  graduated  steps  toward  the  ulti- 
mate heights  of  joy.  Being  a  confident  crea- 
ture, she  had  no  doubt  that  Fortescue  was 
hers,  but  she  was  quite  willing  to  put  off  the 
time  when  the  unseen  bonds  should  become 
the  visible  chain.  For  these  Southern 
coquettes  develop  naturally  into  devoted  and 
adoring  wives,  with  no  eyes  for  any  man  but 
one. 

There  had  been  glorious  winter  weather  up 
to  New  Year,  but  within  a  week  the  January 
storms  set  up,  and  for  two  months  there  was 
sleet  and  snow.  The  small  brown  house  was 


shut  in,  and  there  was  little  passing  back 
and  forth  among  the  county  people.  The  bad 
weather  kept  Betty  at  home  many  Sundays 
from  the  old  Colonial  church,  with  its  ven- 

106 


THE  DREAM  OF  LOVE 

erable  rector.  The  Colonel's  rheumatism 
was  much  encouraged  by  the  stormy  season, 
and  he  too  was  house-bound.  In  this  time 
of  solitude,  Betty  lived  in  two  worlds,  one 
the  narrow  walls  of  Holly  Lodge,  and  the 
other  the  great  and  splendid  world  of  the 
imagination,  the  Arcady  of  youth  and  love. 
As  she  looked  out  of  her  dormer  window 
toward  Eosehill,  a  mysterious  smile  shone 
upon  her  speaking  face  as  she  saw  herself 
once  more  the  mistress  of  the  fine  old  house. 
It  is  true  there  was  an  obstacle  to  be  got  over. 
This  was  Fortescue's  profession,  because  he 
had  told  her  how  a  soldier  was  sent  hither 
and  yon.  Betty  was  the  last  girl  in  the  world 
to  ask  a  man  to  give  up  his  profession,  and, 
most  of  all,  the  profession  of  arms,  but  youth 
and  inexperience  can  rearrange,  in  theory, 
the  pawns  upon  the  chessboard  of  life. 

Fortescue  kept  up  an  active  siege.  Every 
week  came  flowers  from  him,  or  a  book,  or 
a  box  of  bonbons,  something  to  remind  Betty 
of  his  existence.  Constantly  little  white 
notes  were  written  by  Betty,  thanking  him, 
and  with  a  word  or  two  of  deeper  meaning. 
Betty  reckoned,  as  a  certainty,  that  in  the 
spring  Fortescue  would  return  with  the 
officers  who  were  to  make  the  military  survey. 
There  would  be  at  least  a  dozen  officers,  so 
Fortescue  had  told  Betty,  and  they  were  to 

107 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 


have  a  camp  on  the  Colonel's  land,  only  five 
miles   away,   and  although  there  would  be 
much  work,  there  would  also  be  a  little  play. 
As  Betty  looked  out  of  the  window  on  the 
wintry  scene,  she  imagined  it  in  the  first 
%  -^          bloom  of  the  early  spring,  the 
leaden   skies   turned  to   a   sap- 
phire blue,  the  frozen  earth  all 


brown  and  green  and  odoriferous,  the  naked 
branches  of  the  trees  and  shrubs  were 
transformed  into  their  first  sweet  budding, 
and  the  silver  river  seemed  dancing  in 
the  sun.  Betty  was  a  busy  little  soul,  and 
had  not  much  time  for  reverie,  particularly 
as  she  was  hard  at  work  on  her  summer 
clothes,  making  dainty  little  muslin  frocks 
for  herself,  which  she  could  do  very  well.  But 
there  was  a  magic  hour  in  her  own  little  room 
after  she  was  ready  for  bed,  when  the  candles 
were  out  and  only  the  scarlet  and  golden  glory 
cf  the  firelight  shone  upon  her.  Then  Betty, 
in  a  smart  little  rose-colored  dressing  gown, 

108 


THE  DREAM  OF  LOVE 

which  was  the  pride  of  her  heart,  would 
huddle  against  the  dormer  window  that 
looked  toward  Eosehill,  and  think  thoughts 
and  dream  dreams. 


CHAPTER  XII 

KETTLE  ACTS  HIS  OWN  ILIAD 

IT  was,  on  the  whole,  a  happy,  though  soli- 
tary winter,  and  a  very  comfortable  one  to 
others  at  Holly  Lodge,  besides  Betty.  The 
comfort  was  to  a  great  degree  brought  about 
by  Kettle.  The  boy  not  only  picked  up  chips 
and  made  the  fires,  and  churned,  and  milked 
the  one  cow,  but  was  helpful  at  every  turn  to 
Uncle  Cesar  and  Aunt  Tulip.  The  first  thing 
had  been  to  provide  him  with  some  warm 
clothes,  and  by  the  united  efforts  of  Betty 
and  Aunt  Tulip  this  had  been  accomplished. 
Then,  one  bitter  day,  when  there  was  nobody 
to  go  for  the  mail  to  the  village  post-office, 
no 


KETTLE  ACTS  HIS  OWN  ILIAD 

two  miles  away,  Kettle,  without  saying  a  word 
to  anybody,  slipped  off.  He  knew  that  Betty, 
whom  he  adored,  was  always  looking  for  let- 
ters, and  Kettle,  in  his  little  heart,  determined 
that  she  should  not  look  in  vain  that  day. 
He  was  missed,  and  Aunt  Tulip  resigned  her- 
self to  the  belief  that  the  boy  had  run  away 
again,  carrying  with  him  a  much  better  outfit 
than  that  with  which  he  had  arrived.  But 
Aunt  Tulip 's  unjust  suspicions  were  falsified 
when  in  an  hour  or  two  Kettle  turned  up 
again  with  the  Colonel's  weekly  newspaper 
and  a  letter  and  a  large  box  of  sweets  for 
Betty,  from  a  source  which  she  knew  very 
well.  Aunt  Tulip  gave  Kettle  a  wigging  for 
"runnin'  off  'thout  tellin'  nobody,"  but  he 
was  merely  admonished  not  to  go  again  with- 
out giving  notice.  The  expedition,  however, 
turned  out  to  be  very  profitable  for  Kettle, 
as  the  keeper  of  the  country  store,  who  was 
also  the  postmaster,  had  engaged  Kettle  in 
conversation,  and  had  ended  by  presenting 
him  with  two  shirts  of  a  gaudy  pink,  and  a 
cap,  which  saved  Kettle's  one  hat  for  Sun- 
days. 

Aunt  Tulip  was  a  pessimist  on  the  subject 
of  boys,  and  was  always  expecting  an  out- 
break of  depravity  on  Kettle's  part.  The 
form  in  which  this  came  was  altogether  un- 
usual. Kettle  loved  music,  and  whatever  he 
111 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

might  be  doing,  if  lie  heard  the  strains  of  the 
Colonel's  violin,  or  especially  Betty's  touch 
upon  the  harp  in  the  sitting-room,  it  would 
have  been  necessary  to  chain  him  up  to  keep 
him  away.  He  would  sit  on  a  little  cricket  in  a 
corner,  his  black,  shiny  eyes  full  of  rapture, 
and  his  mouth  one  vast  grin.  Kettle  was  in  a 
heaven  of  delight  when  the  Colonel,  of  even- 
ings, tuned  up  his  violin,  and,  sending  for 
Uncle  Cesar,  "ole  Marse"  and  his  "boy" 
would  make  sweet,  old-time  music  between 
tli em.  In  a  little  while,  however,  Kettle  began 
to  long  that  he  too  might  call  the  soul  of 
music  forth  from  the  strings.  On  the  rare 
occasions  when  the  Colonel  was  able  to  go  out 
for  a  walk,  or  when  he  was  taking  his  after- 
noon nap  more  soundly  than  usual,  Kettle 
would  creep  to  the  fiddle-case,  and,  opening  it, 
would  let  his  little  black  hand  wander  among 
the  strings,  and,  bending  his  ear  down,  he 
would  listen  as  if  it  were  the  music  of  the 
spheres.  Uncle  Cesar  caught  him  at  this  one 
day,  and,  seizing  him  by  the  collar,  gave  him 
a  shaking  which  made  Kettle's  teeth  rattle. 
Kettle  shrieked,  and  Betty  came  running  into 
the  kitchen,  expecting  to  find  a  tragedy  in 
progress. 

"Miss Betty, "said Uncle  Cesar, ' ' this heah 
impident  little  black  nigger  has  been  openin' 
112 


KETTLE  ACTS  HIS  OWN  ILIAD 

ole  Marse'  fiddle-box  an'  mine,  and  pickin'  at 
the  strings,  an'  I  kinder  believe  he  has  been 
a-pickin'  at  the  strings  of  your  harp,  Miss 
Betty.  Did  you  ever  heah  of  such  owdacious- 
ness  sence  Gord  made  you,  Miss  Betty?" 

"No,  I  never  did,"  answered  Betty 
promptly.  And  then  she  said  sternly,  with 
an  accusing  forefinger,  to  Kettle: 

"Remember,  Kettle,  if  ever  I  catch  you 
meddling  with  the  harp  or  with  the  violin, 
I  will  certainly  give  you  a  good  switching, 
myself.  Do  you  understand!" 

"Yessum,"  answered  Kettle,  with  solemn 
emphasis. 

This  engagement  was  reinforced  by  Uncle 
Cesar  promising  him  an  additional  switching 
in  case  he  did  not  get  his  deserts  in  the  first 
one. 

For  a  week  or  two,  Kettle  was  able  to  keep 
his  fingers  off  the  harp-strings  and  out  of  the 
fiddle-box,  but  one  morning,  when  the  winter 
sun  was  shining,  and  Colonel  Beverley  had 
gone  out  for  a  little  turn  on  the  lawn,  Kettle 
fell  from  grace.  Suspicious  sounds  were 
heard  in  the  sitting-room.  Aunt  Tulip  softly 
opened  the  door,  and  there  was  Kettle  down 
on  his  knees  before  the  fiddle-case,  picking 
away  in  rapture.  Aunt  Tulip  grabbed  him, 
and  called  wrathfully  to  Uncle  Cesar  to  go 
and  get  a  switch.  Uncle  Cesar,  full  of  ven- 

8  113 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

geance,  went  out  and  returned  with  what 
might  better  be  described  as  a  sapling,  it  was 
so  long  and  stout.  Just  then  Betty  entered 


the  room,  and  Aunt  Tulip  told  her  of  Kettle 's 
felonious  acts. 

"Of  course,  Aunt  Tulip,  you  must  give  him 
a  whipping,"  said  Betty  positively. 

The  whole  party  then  marched  into  the 
kitchen,  and  Kettle  was  ordered  to  take  off 
his  jacket,  which  he  did  with  much  natural 
reluctance.  Then,  Aunt  Tulip,  flourishing  the 
long  switch  around,  proceeded  to  harangue 
Kettle  indignantly: 

114 


KETTLE  ACTS  HIS  OWN  ILIAD 

"Ain't  you  'shamed  yourself,  you  good- 
for-nothin'  little  nigger,  after  all  ole  Marse 
an'  Miss  Betty  done  for  you,  ter  sneak  in  the 
settin'-room,  an'  be  ruinin'  ole  Marse'  fiddle- 
strings,  an'  meddlin'  with  Miss  Betty's 
harp?  I  tell  you  what,  boys  has  got  ter  git 
switched  sometimes,  an'  I'm  agwine  ter  give 
you  a  switchin'  this  day  you  will  remember 
to  the  Day  of  Judgment." 

With  this  awful  preamble,  Aunt  Tulip 
raised  the  switch,  and  Kettle,  before  a  single 
stroke  had  descended,  burst  into  howls.  Aunt 
Tulip's  hand  faltered. 

"I  declar,  Miss  Betty,"  she  said  apologet- 
ically, pausing  with  the  uplifted  switch  in  the 
air,  "it's  mighty  hard  ter  give  a  switchin' 
ter  a  chile  as  ain't  got  no  father  nor  mother; 
but  Kettle  cert'ny  ought  to  have  it,  an'  I  think 
Cesar  kin  give  it  ter  him  better 'n  I  kin." 

"With  this,  the  switch  was  handed  over  to 
Uncle  Cesar.  Kettle  redoubled  his  yells.  The 
prospect  of  the  switch  in  Uncle  Cesar's  stal- 
wart arm  was  indeed  terrifying.  Uncle 
Cesar,  to  make  the  ceremony  more  impres- 
sive, took  off  his  coat  and  rolled  up  his  shirt- 
sleeves, and  lifted  the  switch  on  high.  But 
it  did  not  come  down  on  Kettle's  back  when 
it  was  expected.  Uncle  Cesar's  hand  began  to 
tremble. 

"It's  mighty  cur'rus,   Miss  Betty,"  said 

115 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

Uncle  Cesar,  hesitating  and  rubbing  his  arm, 
' '  but  I  kinder  got  my  hand  out  with  switchin ' 
boys,  an'  the  rheumatiz  is  right  bad  this 
mornin'.  Anyhow,  I  reckon  I  better  put  off 
this  heah  switchin '  'twell  the  rheumatiz  gits 
better." 

"It  can't  be  put  off,  Uncle  Cesar,"  an- 
swered Betty  decisively.  * '  The  truth  is,  Aunt 
Tulip  and  you  are  squarmish  about  giving 
Kettle  what  he  deserves.  Now,  I  believe  in 
discipline,  and  if  you  promise  a  boy  a  switch- 
ing, you  ought  to  give  it  to  him.  So  give  me 
the  switch." 

The  instrument  of  torture  was  duly  handed 
over  to  Betty.  Kettle  suddenly  stopped  his 
wailings,  and  his  mouth  came  wide  open  as 
if  it  were  on  hinges.  Betty,  too,  by  way  of 
nerving  herself  for  the  task,  began  to  give 
Kettle  a  lecture. 

"Now,  Kettle,"  she  said  sternly,  "your 
conduct  has  been  perfectly  outrageous.  You 
were  told  not  to  touch  my  harp  or  the  violins. ' ' 

* '  I  know  it,  Miss  Betty, ' '  whimpered  Kettle, 
his  arm  to  his  eyes,  "but  them  fiddles,  they 
jes'  seem  a-callin'  an*  a-callin'  ter  me  fur  ter 
come  an'  play  on  'em  an*  that  air  harp — Miss 
Betty,  ef  I  could  play  a  chune  on  one  of  them 
fiddles,  I'd  rather  do  it— I'd  ruther  do  it " 

Kettle's  imagery  failed  him  in  finding  a 
simile  strong  enough. 

116 


"But  you  were  told  not  to  touch  them,  and 
you  disobeyed.  Now  you  are  going  to  get  a 
whipping  for  it,"  replied  Betty,  catching  her 
under  lip  in  her  little  white  teeth,  and  raising 
once  more  the  five-foot  and  inch-thick  switch. 
When  it  had  been  lifted  above  him  before, 
Kettle  had  bawled  loudly,  but  at  the  sight  of 
Betty  standing  on  tiptoe  with  the  switch 
grasped  in  both  hands,  Kettle's  open  mouth 
suddenly  extended  in  a  huge  grin,  and  he 
burst  into  a  subdued  guffaw.  In  vain,  Betty 
held  the  switch  aloft  and  tried  to  screw  up 
courage  to  bring  it  down  on  Kettle.  It  was 
quite  impossible  with  Kettle  grinning  before 
her  and  chuckling  openly.  Betty  herself  sud- 
denly burst  out  laughing,  and  dropped  the 
switch. 

"The  only  thing  I  can  think  of  to  do  with 
you,  Kettle, "  she  said,  "is  to  teach  you  to 
play  the  fiddle." 

At  that,  Kettle's  mouth,  if  possible,  came 
wider  open  than  ever. 

"Lord,  Miss  Betty!"  he  cried,  "does  you 
mean  you  is  a-gwine  to  put  the  bow  in  my 
han'  and  lemme  scrape  them  strings  with 
it?" 

"Yes,  indeed,"  answered  Betty.  "I  will 
teach  you  your  notes,  and  Uncle  Cesar  will 
show  you  how  to  handle  the  bow." 

From  that  day  began  Kettle's  musical  edu- 

117 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

cation.  The  Colonel  sitting  in  his  great  chair, 
would  smile  at  Betty  with  the  music-book,  in- 
structing Kettle  in  the  notes  which  she  knew. 
Kettle  was  extremely  stupid  at  learning  his 
notes,  and  Betty  frequently  promised  him  the 
long  delayed  switching  for  his  negligence. 
But  as  soon  as  Uncle  Cesar  took  charge  of 
him  and  put  the  bow  in  his  hand,  Kettle 
learned  with  amazing  rapidity. 

"I  am  afraid,  my  dear,"  the  Colonel  would 
say  to  Betty  on  these  occasions,  "that  Kettle 
can  master  the  concrete  better  than  the  ab- 
stract. However,  he  must  learn  his  notes. ' ' 

Kettle  progressed  so  fast  that  in  the  course 
of  a  couple  of  months  he  enjoyed  the  privilege 
of  playing  a  second  to  the  Colonel's  fiddle. 
The  boy's  arms  were  barely  long  enough  to 
use  a  grown-up  fiddle.  As  he  played,  he 
shuffled  about  in  rapture,  and  Betty  taught 
him  to  do  the  back-step  and  double  shuffle 
while  he  played.  It  was  a  new  amusement  in 
the  Colonel's  quiet  life  to  have  Kettle  come 
in  the  sitting-room  in  the  evening  after  sup- 
per, and  play  and  dance  for  him,  while  Kettle 
enjoyed  the  performance  beyond  words. 


THE  winter  slipped  away,  and  in  April 
the  little  camp  was  to  be  formed,  and  the 
officers  were  to  remain  for  a  couple  of 
months.  The  thought  of  seeing  Fortescue 
again,  brought  the  eloquent  blood  to  Betty's 
delicate  cheeks  and  a  new  brilliance  to  her 
sparkling  eyes.  The  spring  came  early  in 
that  latitude,  and  the  first  day  of  April  was 
deliciously  mild.  Betty  was  at  work  in  the 
little  old-fashioned  garden  of  Holly  Lodge. 
She  had  brought  with  her  from  Eosehill  many 
rosebushes  and  a  bed  of  cowslips  and  violets. 
With  a  garden  trowel  in  her  hand,  her  skirts 
pinned  up,  and  a  red  Tarn  o'Shanter  pushed 
back  from  her  forehead,  Betty  was  busy  dig- 
ging about  the  rose-bushes.  Kettle  had  been 
of  the  greatest  service  in  making  the  garden. 

119 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

That  morning  lie  had  been  sent  to  the  post- 
office  for  the  mail,  and  Betty  was  watching 
out  for  him :  he  was  likely  to  bring  her  a  letter 
from  Fortescue.  Presently,  Kettle  appeared 
crossing  the  little  lawn,  and  passed  through 
the  garden  gate.  His  shrewd  little  mind  had 
discovered  that  when  he  delivered  to  Betty 
a  large,  square  envelope,  addressed  in  a  cer- 
tain masculine  handwriting,  Betty  was  sure 
to  smile  and  open  the  letter  quickly.  This 
happened  again,  but  Kettle  was  amazed  to 
see  Betty's  dimple  suddenly  disappear,  her 
bright  eyes  suddenly  grow  sombre,  and  the 
color  drop  swiftly  out  of  her  cheeks.  She 
read  the  letter  through  slowly,  and  then  stood 
with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground  and  her 
lips  trembling.  Fortescue  was  not  coming 
with  the  other  officers.  He  had  just  received 
orders  to  the  other  side  of  the  continent.  He 
had  asked  for  twenty-four  hours '  leave,  which 
would  give  him  a  chance  to  see  Betty  for 
about  two  hours  the  next  day.  He  did  not 
know,  however,  whether  he  could  get  permis- 
sion in  time  to  make  the  boat  or  not,  but  he 
would  do  it  if  mortal  man  could.  He  hoped 
Betty  would  understand  why  he  came.  The 
girl  knew  well  enough  what  he  meant,  but  the 
thought  of  three  thousand  miles  between  them 
for  a  long  time,  brought  its  pang.  The  fair 
day  suddenly  lost  its  beauty  for  Betty.  The 
120 


IT  WAS  THE  SPRINGTIME 

vagrant  breeze  seemed  to  sigh  farewell,  and 
the  sapphire  sky  above  her  would  not  be  long 
the  sky  above  Fortescue.  She  was  roused 
from  her  painful  dream  by  Kettle's  voice, 


and  realized  that  the  boy  had  stood  motionless 
next  her  for  a  long  time. 

"Miss  Betty,"  he  asked,  "what's  the  mat- 
ter with  you!" 

"A  great  deal  is  the  matter  with  me," 
sighed  Betty,  putting  the  letter  in  her  pocket, 
121 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

and  resuming  her  digging  and  trimming. 
What  did  it  matter  whether  the  roses  bloomed 
that  June  or  not?  And  the  violets  and  the 
cowslips  could  not  console  her  for  Fortescue. 

Betty  remained  a  long  time  in  the  garden 
that  morning.  Kettle  followed  her  about  like 
a  dog,  every  now  and  then  asking  anxiously : 

"Miss  Betty,  don't  you  feel  no  better?" 

In  spite  of  her  sadness  and  disappointment, 
Betty  was  roused  out  of  herself  by  Kettle's 
sympathy. 

"I  don't  feel  any  better  now,  Kettle,"  she 
said.  "Perhaps  I  shall  to-morrow." 

But  although  Betty  might  show  her  chagrin 
and  despondency  before  Kettle  and  the  rose- 
bushes and  the  violets  and  the  cowslips,  she 
had  no  intention  whatever  of  letting  anybody 
else  see  it.  When  she  looked  up  and  saw  the 
Colonel  coming  out  to  take  the  air,  pacing  up 
and  down  the  garden  walk  in  the  sunny  spring 
day,  Betty,  who  was  a  clever  actress,  put  on 
her  most  smiling  aspect.  As  the  Colonel 
limped  up  and  down  for  half  an  hour,  his  arm 
on  Betty's  shoulder,  he  thought  he  had  never 
known  her  more  cheerful.  She  told  him  quite 
naturally  that  she  had  had  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Fortescue,  and  that  he  was  ordered  to  the 
Northwest,  but,  if  possible,  he  would  be  at 
Rosehill  the  next  day  for  a  short  time,  and 
would  come  over  to  see  them.  The  Colonel's 
122 


IT  WAS  THE  SPRINGTIME 

emotions  concerning  Fortescue  were  very 
badly  mixed  and  perplexing  even  to  himself. 
He  was  not  so  selfish  as  to  forget  Betty's  hap- 
piness, and  Fortescue  was  a  fine,  upstanding 
>oung  fellow,  quite  after  the  Colonel's  heart. 
But  there  was  something  calculated  to  daunt 
the  brave  soul  of  the  old  man  in  the  thought 
of  his  few  remaining  years  without  Betty.  He 
had  been  called  upon  to  resign  the  love  of  his 


youth,  his  only  son,  and  Eosehill,  and  now 

this    little    one At    the    thought,    the 

Colonel  said  to  himself,  as  he  had  done  many 
times  in  years  past,  amid  the  hail  of  bullets, 
with  cannon  thundering  in  his  ears,  or  in 
snow  and  sleet  and  starvation,  " Courage! 
Courage ! ' ' 

123 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

All  that  day,  Betty  was  in  a  dream.  She 
knew  very  well  the  answer  she  would  give 
Fortescue,  but  suddenly  she  looked  into  the 
stern  face  of  Life,  and  saw  what  those  dreams 
meant.  How  could  she  leave  Holly  Lodge 
and  the  Colonel  and  Aunt  Tulip  and  Uncle 
Cesar  and  Kettle,  and  the  young  chickens, 
just  hatched  ?  Life  was  a  practical  affair  with 
Betty,  but,  alas,  sentiment  and  emotion  were 
strong  within  her.  She  did  not  know  how  the 
next  twenty-four  hours  passed,  except  that 
her  eyes  continually  swept  the  narrow  lane 
that  led  to  the  little  gate  of  Holly  Lodge.  She 
would  rather  see  Fortescue  in  the  garden, 
and  therefore  dressed  herself  in  her  little 
pale  yellow  gown,  and  put  on  a  great  straw 
hat,  trimmed  with  little  yellow  buds  and  green 
leaves,  that  was  worthy  of  a  dryad.  The 
air  was  warm  and  soft  at  midday,  and  Betty 
was  walking  up  and  down  the  garden  path, 
watching,  watching,  watching,  and  at  last, 
just  as  she  had  turned  her  back  to  the  gate 
and  was  walking  the  length  of  the  little  garden 
path,  Fortescue  was  at  her  side.  He  looked 
so  bronzed,  so  soldierly,  so  much  the  man,  that 
Betty  gave  a  little  gasp  of  delight.  There 
was  a  tall  box-hedge  in  the  little  old  garden 
which  screened  the  walk  from  the  windows  of 
the  house,  so  that  Fortescue  could  take 
Betty's  hand  and  be  unseen  as  they  walked 

124 


BUT   IF   YOU   LOVE   M 


IT  WAS  THE  SPRINGTIME 

up  and  down  in  the  pleasant  spring  noon. 
Then  Fortescue  told  her  all:  that  he  had  re- 
ceived his  unexpected  orders  and  must  go, 
that  it  wrung  his  heart  to  leave  her,  but  that 
he  was  hers  forever,  and  that  though  his  body 
might  be  in  the  far  Northwest,  his  heart  and 
soul  would  be  at  Holly  Lodge.  Betty's  eyes 
made  answer  to  Fortescue,  and  her  lips  spoke 
the  winged  words  that  gave  her  to  her  lover. 
A  pair  of  robins  beginning  housekeeping  in 
the  grape  arbor  at  the  end  of  the  walk  sang 
and  trilled  rapturously  as  they  watched  the 
lovers. 

There  could  be  no  question  of  their  being 
married  immediately,  as  Fortescue  would  be 
on  the  wing  for  the  next  four  months,  and  he 
knew  nothing  of  his  new  station  or  duties, 
except  that  both  were  trying  and  the  condi- 
tions unsuited  to  a  woman.  But  later,  after 
he  had  seen  what  the  conditions  were,  per- 
haps he  could  take  Betty  with  him. 

"I  am  asking  a  great  deal  of  you,  Betty, " 
he  said.  "The  wife  of  a  junior  officer  has  to 
go  from  place  to  place,  to  be  uprooted  con- 
stantly. It  is  true  that  I  am  lucky  in  having 
money  enough  to  make  it  as  easy  as  it  can  be 
made,  still,  it  is  hard,  hard,  all  the  same.  But 
if  you  love  me " 

Betty  said  one  little  word  which  settled 
that  point,  though  her  eyes  were  grave. 

125 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 


"How  can  I  leave  my  grandfather?"  she 
asked  suddenly. 

"You  need  not  leave  him,"  promptly  re- 
plied Fortescue.  "We  can  carry  the  old  gen- 
tleman and  the  whole  outfit  around  with  us." 


But  Betty  shook  her  head. 

"You  don't  know  my  grandfather,"  she 
said.  "He  has  a  very  independent  spirit. 
How  could  a  man  who  has  lived  his  life  here 
for  so  many  years  go  from  place  to  place  1  He 
must  live  and  die  here." 

' '  He  can  go  and  live  at  Eosehill  if  he  wants 
to,"  answered  Fortescue,  who  was  disposed 
to  brush  away  all  obstacles.  "My  father  is 
pretty  good  to  me,  and  he  will  do  anything 
I  ask  him  about  the  place." 

"But  Granddaddy  would  never  consent  to 
be  a  pensioner  on  anybody,  I  am  sure, ' '  con- 
tinued Betty,  with  a  doleful  little  smile.  "So 

126 


IT  WAS  THE  SPRINGTIME 

we  can't  be  married  until  you  are  retired, 
thirty-six  years  from  now." 

Fortescue  scouted  this  proposition,  but  he 
saw  in  Betty  Beverley  something  that  gave 
him  pain  and  yet  made  him  proud.  This  was 
a  fixed  loyalty  to  her  duty.  It  was  that  which 
made  Fortescue,  who  could  have  led  a  life  of 
idle  luxury,  lead  the  stern  life  of  a  soldier. 
He  would  not  have  loved  Betty  half  so  well 
if  she  had  shown  too  much  willingness  to  cast 
off  the  old  ties  for  the  new.  But,  as  Fortescue 
told  himself  and  Betty,  there  are  a  great  many 
troublesome  questions  coming  up  all  the  time 
concerning  human  beings,  horses,  cows,  gar- 
dens, and  everything  else.  There  was  one 
small  scrap  of  comfort.  It  was, 

"And  the  only  thing  is,  Betty,"  he  said, 
"that  we  shall  love  each  other  and  stand  by 
each  other,  and  some  way  out  of  it  will  be 
found. ' ' 

It  was  possible  that  in  December,  when 
the  great  Northwest  was  snow-bound,  Fortes- 
cue  might  get  a  month 's  leave.  If  he  came  to 
Virginia  and  back,  it  would  give  him  a  week, 
perhaps  ten  days,  at  Bosehill.  Of  course,  he 
would  have  to  spend  a  day  or  two  with  his 
father  and  brothers  but  they  could  meet  him 
somewhere  on  the  way. 

"I've  got  a  fine  old  dad,"  Fortescue  said, 
"and  he  is  always  saying  that  the  men  of  to- 

127 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

day  have  no  devotion  to  women;  so  the  old 
gentleman  wouldn't  think  me  game  if  I  didn't 
spend  most  of  my  leave  with  you,  eh,  Betty?" 

It  seemed  to  them  but  a  little  space  of  time 
that  they  had  been  in  the  garden  together, 
when  Fortescue,  suddenly  looking  at  his 
watch,  found  that  he  had  barely  time  to  go 
into  the  house  and  speak  to  the  Colonel  and 
then  catch  the  boat  at  the  landing.  The 
friendly  hedge  that  had  screened  the  lovers 
witnessed  the  last  throbbing  kiss.  Outwardly 
serene,  but  inwardly  palpitating,  they  went 
quickly  into  the  house.  Betty  had  warned 
Fortescue,  as  they  ran  down  the  garden  path, 
to  say  nothing  to  her  grandfather. 

"It  will  only  distress  him  and  keep  him 
awake  at  night,  and  I  will  choose  a  time  to 
tell  him." 

"All  right,"  answered  Fortescue.  "Just 
give  me  notice,  and  I  will  write  him  the  con- 
ventional letter.  But  to  tell  you  the  truth, 
Betty,  I  would  just  as  soon  be  out  of  the  way 
when  the  Colonel  turns  those  pathetic  eyes 
on  you,  as  you  talk  about  getting  married." 

Colonel  Beverley  had  seen  so  many  young 
men  walking  up  and  down  the  garden  path 
with  Betty,  and  had  watched  the  rise  and  fall 
of  so  many  flirtations,  that  he  attached  little- 
consequence  to  Fortescue 's  visit.  He  was 
sorry  that  the  young  officer  would  not  be 

128 


IT  WAS  THE  SPRINGTIME 

among  the  party  in  the  camp,  and  added  with 
a  grim  smile  that  no  doubt  the  young  ladies 
in  the  county  would  miss  him  extremely  and 
would  be  forced  to  take  comfort  in  other 
second  lieutenants,  just  as  it  had  been  in  his 
day.  Then  with  best  wishes  and  a  hand- 
shake, and  a  soft  pressure  of  Betty's  fingers, 
Fortescue  was  gone. 

"A  fine,  personable  youngster,"  said  the 
Colonel  to  Betty.  "Very  creditable  of  him, 
serving  in  the  army,  and  he  the  son  of  a  rich 
man.  He  could  be,  if  he  wished,  of  the  idle 
rich. ' ' 

"If  he  were  an  idle  rich  man,  I  don't  think 
I  should  care  much  about  him,"  said  Betty 
significantly. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

PROBLEMS 

Up  to  that  point,  life  had  been  the  simplest 
of  propositions  to  Betty  Beverley,  but  from 
that  day  it  became  painfully  complex.  She 
had  thought  but  little  and  spoken  less  of  the 
great  word  "duty,"  but  she  had  in  her  the 
soul  of  the  soldier,  and  her  duty  loomed  large 
before  her,  as  it  did  before  Fortescue.  On 
this  point  their  understanding  was  perfect. 
Betty,  if  Fortescue  had  been  ordered  into 
action,  would  have  buckled  his  sword  about 
his  waist  and  bade  him,  with  a  smile,  to  go. 
In  the  same  way,  when  Betty  spoke  of  her 
duty  to  stay,  Fortescue  said  no  word  to  make 
her  a  traitor.  But  they  were  both  young  and 
full  of  hope  and  love,  and  had  transcendent 
confidence  in  the  future.  Everything  would 
come  right,  was  the  easy  conviction  of  both. 

130 


PROBLEMS 

Betty  waited  a  few  days  to  see  if  Fortes- 
cue's  visit  had  roused  any  latent  suspicions 
in  the  Colonel's  mind,  but,  seeing  it  had  not, 
one  day  when  it  was  soft  and  mild  as  on  the 
day  of  days  when  Fortescue  had  told  her  of 
his  love,  she  walked  in  the  little  garden  with 
the  Colonel  and  told  him  all. 

"But  I  don't  mean  to  desert  you,  grand- 
daddy,  '  *  she  said  firmly.  * '  I  don 't  know  how 
it  is  coming  out,  and  neither  does  Jack" — 
for  by  that  time  Fortescue  had  become 
"Jack"  to  Betty — "but  I  hate  a  deserter,  you 
know." 

"It  wouldn't  be  desertion,  my  dear,"  said 
the  Colonel.  "And  it  would  be  a  base  thing 
of  me  to  spoil  your  life,  my  little  Betty.  But, 
as  you  say,  a  way  will  be  found.  Don't  let  us 
trouble  about  it  until  Christmas,  then,  as  you 
say,  Fortescue  will  try  to  get  a  leave  that  will 
give  him  a  week  at  Eosehill,  and  we  shall  see. 
I  think  perhaps  I  could  get  on  pretty  well  at 
Holly  Lodge  with  Cesar  and  Tulip  and 
Kettle." 

"Do  you  mean,"  cried  Betty  indignantly, 
"that  you  could  get  on  pretty  well  without 
me  f  Oh,  what  a  wicked  old  grandfather  you 
are!" 

"But  if  you  will  come  to  see  me  some- 
times," said  the  Colonel,  anxious  to  find  a 
way. 

131 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

In  due  time  the  letter  to  the  Colonel  came 
from  Fortescue,  and  the  Colonel  answered  it 
in  his  dignified,  old-fashioned  manner.  He 
did  not  wish  and  would  not  permit  himself 
to  be  a  bar  to  his  granddaughter's  happiness. 
After  a  time,  when  their  affection  had  been 
tested,  he  would  give  his  consent  to  the 
marriage. 

The  officers  came,  and  the  camp  was 
pitched,  and  much  work  was  done.  Likewise, 
much  eating,  drinking,  dancing,  riding,  boat- 
ing, and  picnicing  with  the  county  people. 
It  was  the  old  story  of  Christmas  week  trans- 
ferred to  spring.  Betty  appeared  to  be  as 
keen  over  the  lieutenants  as  Sally  Carteret 
or  any  girl  in  the  county,  nor  did  she  feel  any 
qualms  of  conscience  when  two  second  lieuten- 
ants each  told  her  at  different  times  that  he 
could  not  live  without  her.  Betty  was  a  little 
unfeeling  toward  her  admirers,  and  her  tears 
were  but  crocodile  tears  when  she  told  the 
lieutenants  that  she  could  not  leave  her  grand- 
father— except  for  that Here  Betty 

broke  down  prettily,  and  the  lieutenants  were 
in  despair.  But  they  speedily  recovered  from 
their  disappointment  and  found  other  outlets 
for  their  affections.  Betty,  the  trifler,  was 
serious  enough,  however,  where  Fortescue 
was  concerned. 

The  spring  melted  into  summer  and  on  a 

132 


PROBLEMS 

day  black  for  Sally  Carteret  and  the  other 
gay  young  things  in  the  county  the  camp  was 
broken  and  the  officers  departed.  Luckily, 
though,  it  was  at  the  season  when  the  Univer- 


sity students  returned  to  the  county,  bringing 
many  of  their  fellow  students  with  them,  so 
that  there  was  balm  in  Gilead.  As  for  Betty, 
she  was  quite  willing  to  play  with  the  Uni- 
versity students,  as  she  had  with  the  second 
lieutenants.  But  deep  down  in  her  heart  they 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

mattered  little.  There  was  only  one  man  for 
her,  and  that  was  Lieutenant  John  Hope  For- 
te scue. 

The  earth  seemed  brightening  for  all  at 
Holly  Lodge.  The  Colonel  had  learned  more 
and  more  to  accommodate  himself  to  the  little 
house  and  the  simple  surroundings,  and,  free 
from  dehts  and  duns,  had  great  peace.  Betty, 
whose  heart  had  flown  about  like  the  larks 
and  thrushes  from  bough  to  bough,  had  at  last 
made  its  nest,  and  she  too  had  great  peace. 
Kettle  turned  out  to  be  not  only  a  solid  addi- 
tion to  their  comfort,  but  almost  to  their  hap- 
piness. His  sturdy  little  bow-legs  waddled 
about,  bringing  wood  and  water,  and  doing 
errands.  He  was  always  cheery  and  helpful, 
but  with  the  faults  which  are  necessary  to  the 
typical  boy.  He  would  occasionally  neglect 
his  work  for  the  sake  of  his  adored  fiddle,  and 
when  sent  down  to  the  river  shore  to  catch 
crabs  for  dinner  would  become  so  absorbed 
in  the  sport  that  he  would  forget  that  it  was 
merely  a  means  to  an  end.  One  day,  however, 
he  incurred  the  wrath  of  the  whole  establish- 
ment at  Holly  Lodge.  Among  Betty's  treas- 
ures was  a  great  tall  glass  bottle  of  attar  of 
roses,  of  which  a  single  drop  perfumed  a 
room.  Kettle,  passing  Betty's  open  door, 
the  room  being  empty,  saw  on  the  dressing 
table  the  beautiful  bottle  in  which  was  stored 

134 


PROBLEMS 

the  perfume  lie  loved.  The  devil  tempted 
him,  and  Kettle  yielded.  He  slipped  into  the 
room,  and,  opening  the  bottle,  rubbed  its  con- 
tents, a  gill  or  two  of  attar  of  rose,  into  his 
wool. 

Downstairs,  a  pungent  odor,  so  strong  that 
it  was  almost  asphyxiating,  penetrated,  and 
as  Kettle's  steps  were  heard  approaching  the 
perfume  became  overpowering.  The  Colonel 
began  to  sneeze,  and  even  Aunt  Tulip  and 
Uncle  Cesar  in  the  kitchen  had  to  run  out  into 
the  open  air.  Betty,  with  her  handkerchief 
to  her  face,  rushed  into  the  little  hall,  where 
Kettle  stood,  his  eyes  bulging  out  of  his  head, 
as  he  too  gasped  and  sneezed. 

"You've  upset  my  attar  of  rose  upon  your 
head!"  screamed  Betty.  "Go  out  of  doors 
this  minute,  and  I'll  hand  you  over  to  Uncle 
Cesar  for  a  real  switching  this  time." 

By  that  time  Aunt  Tulip  had  dashed  in  from 
the  kitchen,  and,  seizing  Kettle  by  his  woolly 
head,  dragged  him  out  of  doors  to  the  pump, 
calling  meanwhile  for  Uncle  Cesar,  working 
in  the  garden. 

"Cesar!  You  Cesar!  Come  heah  right 
away,  an'  bring  my  big  scissors.  This  heah 
wuffless  little  black  nigger  done  tooken  all 
Miss  Betty's  attar  of  rose  an'  done  rub  it  into 
he  haid,  an'  arter  you  git  the  scissors,  cut  a 
switch  an'  give  him  a  good  tunin'  up." 

135 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

This  terrifying  prospect  entirely  upset 
Kettle's  moral  balance,  and  he  began  to  pro- 
test, spluttering  and  stuttering,  as  Aunt  Tulip 
pumped  water  vigorously  on  his  offending 

head. 

"I  'clar  ter  goodness,  I  am'  never  see  Miss 
Betty's  attar  of  rose.  I  ain'  never  tetch  it." 

At  that,  Aunt  Tulip  stopped  pumping  on 
Kettle  long  enough  to  shake  him  violently. 

"Does  you  know  where  liars  go?"  cried 
Aunt  Tulip  indignantly.  "Doan'  you  know 
nothin'  'bout  the  lake  burnin'  wid  fire  an' 
brimstone,  an'  the  devil  stan'in'  by  wid  a  red 
hot  pitchfork,  stickin'  it  into  dem  sinners?" 

This  awful  future,  the  arrival  of  Uncle 
Cesar  with  the  scissors,  Aunt  Tulip's  merci- 
less use  of  them  on  his  wool,  and  Uncle 
Cesar's  going  off  after  a  switch,  brought 
shrieks  from  Kettle,  as  if  he  were  being  mur- 
dered by  inches.  Betty,  in  the  house,  hearing 
Kettle's  screams,  ran  out,  and  Uncle  Cesar 
reappeared  at  the  same  moment  with  a  switch 
of  horrifying  proportions.  Poor  Kettle,  with 
every  scrap  of  wool  cut  off  his  head,  leaving 
his  skull  as  bare  as  an  egg,  was  so  drenched 
and  frightened  and  woebegone,  that  Betty's 
heart  melted. 

'  *  I  think,  Uncle  Cesar, ' '  she  said, '  *  we  won 't 
give  Kettle  that  switching  to-day,  though  he 
certainly  deserves  it," 

136 


PROBLEMS 

Uncle  Cesar  was  loth  to  lay  aside  the  in- 
strument of  torture. 

"Miss  Betty,  you  better  lemme  give  him  a 
dozen  licks  anyhow,"  urged  Uncle  Cesar. 
"You  kyarn'  raise  boys  'thout  licks." 

But  Betty  demurred.  Kettle,  meanwhile, 
poured  out  a  flood  of  penitential  tears,  and, 
moved  by  Betty's  clemency,  confessed  that 
he  had  emptied  the  bottle  of  attar  of  rose  on 
his  head  and  rubbed  it  in.  He  even  offered 
to  produce  the  empty  bottle  to  corroborate 
his  word,  which  nobody  doubted.  However, 
the  oft-deferred  switching  was  once  more 
postponed,  and  the  improved  prospects  raised 
Kettle's  spirits  immediately.  Half  an  hour 
afterward,  when  he  was  in  dry  clothes,  he 
was  as  cheerful  as  ever,  although  minus  his 
wool,  and,  having  been  sent  to  the  wood-pile 
by  the  still  indignant  Aunt  Tulip,  was  seen 
standing  on  his  head  in  the  intervals  of  pick- 
ing up  chips. 


CHAPTER  XV 
THE  BROKEN  DREAM 

As  the  sunny  autumn  succeeded  the  en- 
chanted summer,  it  seemed  to  Betty  as  if  a 
new  and  lovely  light  were  over  the  world.  For- 
tescue's  letters,  his  constant  gifts,  the  books 
which  came  often,  and  the  music  he  sent  her, 
and  which  Betty  played  and  sang  to  her  harp, 
were  so  many  messages  of  love.  Fortescue 
wrote  that  he  had  applied  for  leave,  and  that 
by  making  close  connections  he  would  be  able 
to  spend  ten  whole  days  at  Eosehill.  He  meant 
to  give  a  ball  on  Christmas  Eve  at  Eose- 
hill, and,  as  he  wrote  Betty,  she  could  prac- 
tise her  future  role  as  mistress  of  Eosehill. 
Fortescue  could  not  manage  the  ball  as  well 
as  the  county  people  managed  their  Christ- 
mas balls.  All  he  could  do  was  to  order  the 
music  and  the  supper  and  everything  from 

138 


THE  BROKEN  DREAM 

Baltimore,  but  when  Betty  presided  at  Rose- 
hill  things  could  be  done  better  and  in  true 
Virginia  style.  He  hoped  to  arrive  some  days 
before  Christmas. 

Then  Betty  began  the  pleasant  process  of 
counting  the  days.  This  she  confided  to  the 
Colonel,  for  Betty  understood,  as  few  young 
things  do,  the  yearning  of  the  old  for  the  con- 
fidence of  the  young,  the  delicacy  felt  by  an 
old  man  lest  he  intrude  upon  the  secrets  of 
the  young. 

The  two,  Betty  and  the  Colonel,  tried  very 
hard  to  dovetail  the  wishes  and  duties  and  in- 
terests of  the  triangle.  Fortescue  was  the 
third  angle. 

"Any  way,"  Betty  cried,  when  they  had 
reasoned  out  that  she  could  not  desert  the 
Colonel,  nor  could  she  refuse  to  marry  her 
lover,  nor  could  Fortescue  abandon  his  pro- 
fession, nor  could  Betty  abandon  the  idea  of 
presiding  at  Rosehill — "Any  way,  Grand- 
daddy,  it  will  only  be  thirty-five  years  now 
before  Jack  is  retired,  and  then  we  can  all 
three  settle  down  at  Rosehill." 

The  preparations  for  Christmas  gaieties 
began  early,  and  the  same  round  of  dances 
and  hunts  and  dinners  and  teas  and  festivities 
of  all  sorts  was  arranged. 

It  was  the  third  day  before  Christmas,  and 
Betty,  with  her  skirts  pinned  up,  her  sleeves 

139 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

turned  back  to  her  elbows,  and  a  red  silk 
handkerchief  of  the  Colonel's  tied  around  her 
head,  was  preparing  the  icing  for  the  Christ- 
mas cake,  when  she  saw  Fortescue  passing 
the  window.  There  was  no  time  to  escape. 
The  next  minute  he  was  in  the  little  sitting- 
room,  and  Betty  was  clasped  to  his  heart. 
After  the  first  rapture  of  meeting,  Betty  made 
numerous  apologies,  unpinned  her  skirts, 
pulled  down  her  sleeves,  and  removed  the 
handkerchief  from  her  shining  hair,  but  For- 
tescue told  her  she  did  not  look  half  so  pretty 
as  before.  It  was  a  happy  hour,  one  of  those 
little  glimpses  of  the  Elysian  fields  of  the  soul 
which  come  only  to  the  young  and  the  pure. 
Luckily,  the  Colonel  was  taking  his  afternoon 
stroll  supported  by  his  stick,  and  with  Kettle 
as  aide-de-camp  in  attendance.  The  lovers 
had  a  full  hour  to  themselves  in  the  violet 
dusk,  the  room  only  lighted  by  the  wood  fire 
and  the  pale  glow  of  the  wintry  sunset.  Pres- 
ently, the  Colonel  came  in  and  shook  hands 
cordially  with  Fortescue.  It  was  the  hour 
when  Betty  sang  to  her  harp  the  old  songs 
the  Colonel  loved.  Fortescue  thought  he  had 
never  seen  so  sweet  a  picture  as  Betty  play- 
ing and  singing  to  the  harp,  while  the  Colonel, 
leaning  forward  on  his  stick,  listened  with 
his  soul  in  his  eyes.  Kettle,  squatting  tailor- 
fashion  on  the  hearth,  fixed  his  round  eyes  on 

140 


THE  BROKEN  DREAM 

Betty,  and  his  little  woolly  black  head  was 
motionless  while  she  was  singing. 

Of  course  Fortescue  stayed  to  supper,  and 
Uncle  Cesar  was  reinforced  by  Kettle,  who 
was  chief  batter-cake  server,  and  brought 
from  the  kitchen  the  numerous  relays  of  hot 
batter-cakes,  hot  waffles,  and  hot  biscuits  of 
which  the  well  known  Virginia  formula  is, 
"Take  two  and  butter  them  while  they  are 
hot."  Afterward,  when  Kettle  had  had  his 
supper,  he  was  sent  for  to  exhibit  his  accom- 
plishments with  the  fiddle.  Kettle  played 
dances  and  sang  simultaneously,  his  merry 
music  delighting  Fortescue,  whose  musical 
education  was  not  above  rag-time.  Fortes- 
cue  told  about  the  arrangements  he  had  made 
for  the  Christmas  Eve  ball  at  Eosehill,  and 
Betty  thought  them  ineffably  grand. 

When  Kettle  had  been  sent  away,  there  was 
much  talk  about  armies  and  soldiers  between 
Fortescue  and  the  Colonel,  whose  heart  was 
ever  with  the  fighting  men.  Betty  listened 
with  delight  to  this  modern  Froissart's 
Chronicle,  and  said  presently: 

"How  glad  I  am  to  be  a  soldier's 
daughter ! ' ' 

*  '.And  that 's  why  you  will  make  a  glorious 
wife  for  a  soldier,"  replied  Fortescue  impu- 
dently, at  which  Betty  blushed  all  over  her 
face  and  neck. 

141 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

When  Fortescue  was  walking  back  to  Rose- 
hill,  lie  saw  over  his  shoulder  the  lights  shin- 
ing from  Betty's  dormer  windows.  He  went 
direct  to  his  own  room  as  soon  as  he  reached 
Rosehill,  and  after  a  while  saw  the  lights  go 
out  in  Betty's  windows.  Fortescue,  who,  like 


most  soldiers,  believed  in  God  and  respected 
Him  as  the  Great  Commander,  knew  that 
Betty  was  saying  her  simple,  earnest  prayers 
for  him,  and  the  thought  that  the  prayers  of 
the  innocent  were  heard  gave  him  a  reverent 
thankfulness.  To  Betty,  in  her  little  white 
bed  in  the  darkened  room,  with  the  curtain 
drawn  wide  so  that  she  could  watch  the  lights 
at  Rosehill  as  long  as  they  burned,  it  was  as 
if  the  world  were  growing  too  beautiful. 

142 


THE  BROKEN  DREAM 

Deep  in  her  heart  was  the  old  Greek  super- 
stition that  one  cannot  walk  the  airy  heights 
of  happiness  long  without  a  precipice  open- 
ing beneath  one's  feet.  The  thought  op- 
pressed her  and  kept  her  awake  long  after  the 
windows  of  Eosehill  were  dark.  Something 
like  a  presentiment  stole  into  her  heart. 

" Whatever  happens,  though,"  she  thought, 
' '  nothing  can  come  between  Jack  and  me.  We 
understand  each  other  too  well." 

Suddenly  the  melancholy  cry  of  a  nightbird 
resounded  outside  in  the  darkness.  It  was 
strange  to  hear  that  cry  at  midnight  in  the 
dead  of  winter  and  it  made  Betty  shiver. 

The  next  day  the  gaieties  began  with  great 
vigor.  The  county  was  full  of  visitors,  and 
the  whirl  of  dancing  feet  was  everywhere. 

Early  the  next  day,  Fortescue  came  over 
to  Holly  Lodge.  He  sat  awhile  in  the  sit- 
ting-room, talking  pleasantly  to  the  Colonel, 
who,  in  the  old  days  before  the  continent  was 
linked  by  railways,  had  travelled  through  the 
far-off  country  beyond  the  Eocky  Mountains. 
Betty  was  congratulating  herself  upon  the 
extreme  good  fortune  that  Fortescue  and  her 
grandfather  had  so  much  in  common.  But 
even  that  brought  a  little  chill  to  her  heart, 
for  blessings  have  their  price,  and  Betty  was 
superstitious. 

The  morning  was  cold  and  clear,  and  after 

143 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

awhile  Fortescue  asked  Betty  to  come  out  for 
a  turn  with  him.  Betty  went  willingly 
enough.  The  Colonel  watched  the  two  as 
they  started  off  up  the  lane  toward  the  belt  of 
woodland  that  skirted  the  highway.  Betty's 
trim  figure  in  black,  with  a  little  black  hat  on 
her  shapely  head,  just  came  up  to  Fortescue 's 
shoulder.  They  were  a  good  height,  and 
walked  well  together,  thought  the  Colonel, 
used  to  watching  marchers. 

Of  course  Betty  and  Fortescue  had  every- 
thing to  tell  each  other,  in  spite  of  the  long 
letters  which  had  been  exchanged  weekly. 
But  when  they  were  once  in  the  woodland, 
with  the  morning  sun  shining  upon  the  tall 
and  scattered  cedars,  Fortescue  threw  every- 
thing aside  for  the  chief  purpose  he  had  in 
view. 

"Now,  Betty,"  he  said,  "I  have  come  here 
to  have  you  fix  the  day  when  we  shall  be  mar- 
ried. I  don't  believe  in  long  engagements, 
and  never  meant  to  have  one.  My  special 
duty  will  end  in  the  spring,  and  then  we  must 
be  married." 

Betty's  eyes  grew  troubled.  What  should 
she  say?  How  could  she  leave  the  Colonel? 
Something  like  this  she  stammered  out.  For- 
tescue met  it  impatiently.  He  believed  in  her 
doing  her  duty  by  the  Colonel,  but,  man-like, 
he  thought  that  Betty  must  do  her  duty  by 

144 


THE  BROKEN  DREAM 

him  first.    There  was  no  question  of  money. 
Fortescue  had  enough  to  do  as  he  pleased. 

"Make  the  Colonel  comfortable  any  way 
you  like,"  he  said.  "Let  him  stay  at  Holly 
Lodge  or  go  to  Rosehill.  My  father  has  given 
me  the  place,  and  some  day,  when  I  am  a  re- 


tired major-general,  Betty,  we  shall  live  there, 
you  and  I  and  our  children.  But  we  must 
come  to  a  positive  arrangement  now." 

Fortescue 's  tone  displeased  Betty.  He  was 
too  confident,  too  much  in  the  way  of  giving 
orders,  a  thing  which  Betty  herself  was  accus- 
tomed to  doing.  It  cannot  be  denied  that 
Betty  was  a  little  spoiled  and  rather  haughty. 
Her  reply  to  Fortescue  displeased  him  even 
more  than  his  words  had  displeased  her. 

10  145 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

"I  think,"  she  said  coldly,  "that  you  are 
taking  too  much  for  granted.  Some  one  must 
be  considered  as  well  as  yourself. ' ' 

This  was  a  most  unlucky  speech.  Fortes- 
cue's  reply  was  a  retaliation.  They  were 
only  twenty-one  and  twenty-six,  and  although 
they  had  far  more  of  feeling,  strength,  depth, 
and  steadiness  of  character  than  young  per- 
sons usually  have,  they  were  no  wiser  or  more 
experienced  than  most  young  things.  Some 
words  followed,  impetuous  and  domineering 
on  Fortescue's  part,  exasperatingly  cool  on 
Betty's.  They  were  both  keen  of  wit,  and 
readily  surmised  the  meaning  of  sharp 
phrases.  Fortescue's  feelings  were  quick, 
and  Betty  had  a  tidy  little  temper  of  her  own. 
Suddenly,  they  knew  not  how  or  when  or  why, 
but  they  were  walking  back  toward  Holly 
Lodge  in  the  crisp  winter  morning,  each  with 
a  resentful  heart.  Their  first  meeting  as 
confessed  sweethearts  had  developed  into  a 
serious  quarrel.  It  was  not  about  those 
trifling  things  that  arise  between  young 
lovers,  and  which  bring  tears  and  reproaches, 
and  then  end  in  forgiveness,  but  it  concerned 
a  grave  matter,  the  regulation  of  their  future 
lives  and  their  mutual  obligations,  one  to  the 
other.  The  question  of  what  was  to  become 
of  the  Colonel  had  seemed  so  easy  to  settle 
when  they  had  considered  it  on  the  far-off 

146 


THE  BROKEN  DREAM 

horizon.  Now,  when  it  came  close  to  them,  it 
assumed  a  dangerous  aspect.  The  rash  and 
inexperienced  Betty  thought  that  it  must  be 
settled  according  to  her  ideas,  and  that  For- 
tescue  must  wait  until  the  Colonel  was  coaxed 
into  saying  what  he  would  do  in  the  premises. 
Fortescue,  with  a  much  better  idea  of  the 
vicissitudes  of  an  officer's  life,  saw  that 
Betty's  plans  and  compromises  and  dove- 
tailings  of  duty  were  impracticable,  and  told 
her  so.  The  bitterest  quarrels  on  earth  are 
those  between  a  man  and  a  woman  who  love 
each  other,  and  whose  anger  ' '  doth  work  like 
madness  in  the  brain."  It  was  the  more  in- 
tense because  each  felt  to  be  in  the  right,  and 
that  the  other  must  yield  in  the  name  of  love 
and  duty.  But  yielding  was  new  and  strange 
to  each.  Betty  knew  so  little  of  the  power  of 
money  that  she  resented  Fortescue 's  bringing 
that  into  the  discussion,  and,  moreover,  she 
was  an  arrogant  little  creature  and  a  trifle  too 
ready  for  a  fight.  Fortescue,  who  had  seen 
the  great  outside  world  unknown  to  Betty, 
knew  the  Spanish  proverb,  "God  is  the  gen- 
eral, but  money  is  His  lieutenant."  It  took 
all  of  Betty's  self-command  to  hold  back  the 
tears  and  to  keep  her  lips  from  trembling. 
If  those  tears  had  dropped  upon  her  cheeks 
and  her  lovely  mouth  had  quivered,  all  would 
have  been  well,  but  Fortescue,  watching  her 

147 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

sidewise,  saw  only  her  head  in  the  air,  her 
delicate  face  as  firm  as  marble,  and  said  to 
himself  savagely: 

1  'If  she  doesn't  care,  why  should  I?" 

All  at  once,  a  horrid  doubt  of  Betty  took 
possession  of  his  mind.  Once,  he  had  laughed 
at  her  outrageous  flattery  of  other  men,  her 
open  cajolery,  her  pretty  coquetries.  Sup- 
pose, after  all,  she  had  no  feeling,  and  was 
making  sport  of  his  honest  heart?  Perhaps 
she  had  never  meant  to  marry  him,  and  was 
only  amusing  herself.  There  might  be 
another  man — at  this,  Fortescue  ground  his 
teeth. 

They  walked  the  whole  length  of  the  lane 
without  speaking.  When  they  got  to  the 
paling  surrounding  the  little  lawn  of  Holly 
Lodge,  Betty  spoke,  but  her  evil  genius  waited 
upon  her  tongue  that  day. 

"Of  course,"  she  said,  "as  we  can't  agree, 
everything  is  over.  But  if  we  appear  un- 
friendly, everybody  will  notice  it,  and  I  do 
so  hate  to  have  people  gabbling  about  me!" 

"So  do  I,"  promptly  assented  Fortescue. 

"Then,"  said  Betty,  "we  must  be  as 
friendly  as  ever  while  you  are  in  the  county. 
Luckily,  nobody  knows  anything,  except 
Grandfather,  and  he  will,  of  course,  keep 
quiet.  People  here  don't  think  as  much  of 
a  man's  attentions  to  a  girl  as  you  do,  and 

148 


THE  BROKEN  DREAM 

other  men  have  danced  with  me  quite  as  much 
as  you  have." 

"No  doubt,"  replied  Fortescue  sharply. 
"I  think  you  were  simply  amusing  yourself 
all  the  time.  Well,  then,  I  can  play  that  game 
all  right.  Good  morning." 

He  was  off,  and  Betty  was  walking  soberly 
into  the  house.  The  fair  day  had  grown  dark, 
and  her  heart  in  her  breast  was  like  a  stone. 
Woman-like,  she  began  to  defend  herself 
against  herself: 

"If  he  is  so  dictatorial  as  all  that,  we  never 
could  have  got  on,  so  perhaps  it  is  the  best 
thing  that  we  found  it  out  immediately.  If  a 
woman  gives  in  at  once  to  a  man  and  never 
remembers  what  is  due  anybody  else,  she 
might  as  well  be  a  slave!" 


CHAPTER  XVI 
PRIDE  PAYS  THE  PRICE 

THE  Colonel  was  playing  on  his  violin  as 
Betty  entered  the  sitting-room,  and  what  he 
had  chosen  was  the  sad  old  air  of  "Love  Not, 
Love  Not,  Ye  Hapless  Sons  of  Men."  He 
laid  down  his  violin,  and  noticed  that  Betty's 
face  was  pale,  in  spite  of  the  sharp  winter 
air,  and  that  she  spoke  with  suppressed  fury 
in  her  voice. 

"Grandfather,"  she  said,  "it  is  all  over 
between  Mr.  Fortescue  and  me.  Please  don't 
ask  me  about  it.  We  didn't  disagree  about  a 
trifle,  but  about  something  important.  We 
are  perfectly  friendly,  and  mean  to  keep  so, 

150 


PRIDE  PAYS  THE  PRICE 

because  we  don't  want  the  people  in  the 
county  talking  about  us  and  worrying  us  with 
questions.  But  it  is  all  over,  quite  over." 

The  Colonel  started  and  studied  Betty 
closely.  He  knew  the  resolute  character,  the 
stubborn  pride,  that  lay  beneath  all  of  Betty's 
frivolities.  She  could  do  things  as  foolish  as 
any  girl  of  her  age,  but  she  could  suffer  more 
than  most.  The  Colonel  sighed  as  he  looked 
at  her  pale,  unsmiling  face,  her  eyes  full  of 
angry  light.  He  understood  the  sharp  pain 
of  those  who  have  not  learned  the  awful 
lesson  of  life,  the  haughty  attitude  of  the 
young  who  have  never  known  defeat,  the  suf- 
ferings of  mortified  pride  and  wounded 
vanity,  and,  above  all,  he  had  an  inward  con- 
viction that  Betty  in  her  heart  loved  Fortes- 
cue.  Man-like,  the  Colonel  was  not  so  sure 
of  Fortescue,  and  a  resentment,  grim  and 
stern,  rose  within  him.  Until  the  young 
officer  appeared,  Betty  had  been  quite  happy 
and  satisfied  at  Holly  Lodge.  In  time,  she 
would  have  married  some  one  in  the  county 
perhaps,  and  would  have  led  that  peaceful 
life  on  the  sunny  side  of  the  wall,  which  only 
the  quiet  lives  know.  But  with  Fortescue 's 
appearance  had  come  the  disturbing  vision 
of  a  possible  return  to  Rosehill,  of  a  life  in 
the  great  outside  world,  going  from  place  to 
place,  of  the  breaking  of  all  the  old  ties. 

151 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

Betty  had  asked  him  not  to  question  her,  but 
the  Colonel  felt  justified  in  asking  precisely 
one  question. 

"Elizabeth,  has  Mr.  Fortescue  acted  dis- 
honorably?" he  inquired,  straightening  up 
his  old  figure,  still  soldierly. 

"No,"  replied  Betty  promptly.  "Mr. 
Fortescue  couldn't  do  anything  dishonor- 
able." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  answered  the  Colo- 
nel grimly.  "If  he  had,  I  should  have  felt 
called  upon  to  chastise  him  according  to  the 
code  in  which  I  was  reared  and  have  lived  and 
shall  die." 

Betty's  heart  was  quivering,  her  pride  was 
up  in  arms,  the  whole  world  seemed  full  of 
tears;  but  when  the  Colonel  talked  about 
chastising  Fortescue 's  young  strength,  her 
sense  of  humor  overwhelmed  her  pain,  and 
she  suddenly  laughed  a  little.  She  did  not 
tell  the  Colonel  the  cause  of  her  ripple  of 
laughter,  and  in  another  minute  her  eyes  grew 
sombre  and  her  heart  once  more  hardened 
against  Fortescue. 

"You  may  be  quite  satisfied,  Grand- 
father," she  said.  "All  that  has  happened 
was  my  own  act." 

Betty  turned  and  went  out  of  the  room. 
Being  Christmas-time,  and  there  being  no 
household  tasks  awaiting  her,  no  sewing  to 

152 


PRIDE  PAYS  THE  PRICE 

do,  because  she  had  planned  that  this  Christ- 
mas-time should  be  one  of  perfect  leisure, 
that  she  might  be  free  to  entertain  her  great 
guest,  First  Love,  there  was  nothing  for  her 
to  do.  She  went  aimlessly  up  to  her  room. 


Then,  suddenly,  she  felt  a  sharp  headache. 
Her  mental  suffering  produced  a  physical 
pain.  She  was  rather  glad  of  it,  as  it  gave  her 
an  excuse  for  keeping  to  her  room  and  lying 
down.  The  little  room  was  flooded  with 
winter  sunshine,  and  a  pretty  fire  was  smould- 
ering on  the  hearth.  Betty  drew  the  curtains, 
glancing  meanwhile  toward  Eosehill.  Her 

153 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

keen  eyes  caught  sight  of  Fortescue  crossing 
the  lawn  rapidly.  A  great  buzzard  was 
wheeling  majestically  over  the  Eosehill 
house,  and  a  group  of  the  servants,  one  of  the 
men  with  a  gun,  was  standing  on  the  edge  of 
the  lawn,  prepared  to  fire  at  the  bird.  For- 
tescue walked  up  and,  taking  the  gun,  sighted 
and  fired,  and  the  buzzard  fell  upon  the  roof 
of  the  house.  This  little  act  wrung  Betty's 
heart. 

"How  little  he  cares!"  she  thought  bit- 
terly. "Any  trifle  can  distract  him.  Well, 
it  was  better  to  find  it  out  in  time. ' ' 

Then,  for  the  first  time,  Betty  turned  her 
eyes  away  as  the  Colonel  turned  his  away 
from  Rosehill.  She  loved  the  place,  and  deep 
in  her  heart  had  grown  the  wish  to  preside 
there  once  more,  as  Fortescue 's  wife.  It  was 
impossible,  quite  impossible,  now.  She  could 
not  forget  Fortescue — Betty  was  honest 
enough  with  herself  to  know  that,  and  honor- 
able enough  to  respect  her  own  affection. 
Love  is  not  killed  in  an  hour  or  even  a  day. 
The  great  stretch  of  life  ahead  of  her  loomed 
before  Betty's  eyes  as  one  stands  on  the  edge 
of  a  parched  desert  and  thinks  of  the  weary 
journey  across  it.  For  Betty  Beverley,  the 
coquette,  was  the  soul  of  constancy.  These 
thoughts  and  many  others  and  a  racking 
headache  drove  Betty  to  her  bed.  She  threw 

154 


PRIDE  PAYS  THE  PRICE 

herself  on  it,  with  all  the  sunshine  shut  out  of 
her  room,  just  as  it  had  been  shut  suddenly 
out  of  her  life. 

At  the  midday  dinner,  Kettle,  who  had 
almost  supplanted  Uncle  Cesar  as  butler, 
came  up,  and,  opening  Betty's  door  and  put- 
ting in  his  little  woolly  head,  said  softly : 

"Miss  Betty,  dinner  done  ready." 

"I  can't  come  down  to  dinner,"  answered 
Betty.  "Tell  the  Colonel  that  I  have  a  bad 
headache.  It  will  be  better  to-night,  and  I  am 
going  to  the  party  just  the  same.  But  when 
dinner  is  over,  Kettle,  you  may  bring  me  up 
some  tea  and  toast." 

Kettle  had  never  known  Betty  to  have  an 
ache  or  a  pain  since  he  had  been  established 
at  Holly  Lodge,  and  the  sight  of  her  pale  face, 
and  the  weariness  in  her  voice,  frightened 
him.  He  began  to  argue  with  Betty : 

"Miss  Betty,  you  better  come  down  ter 
dinner.  Aunt  Tulip,  she  done  cook  some  of 
the  bes'  sweet  'taters  you  ever  see  in  your 
life,  Miss  Betty — got  sugar  on  'em,  an' 
butter  too." 

"I  don't  care  for  any,  thank  you,"  said 
Betty,  her  heart  far  away  from  sweet  pota- 
toes with  sugar  and  butter. 

Kettle  paused  for  a  minute  in  order  to  think 
of  some  other  inducement. 

"Aunt  Tulip,  she  got  a  rice  pudden'  wid 

155 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

gre't  big  raisins  in  it,  mos'  as  big  as  my  fist, " 
urged  Kettle. 

"No,  thank  you,"  replied  Betty  absently. 

But  Kettle's  sympathy  could  not  be  bottled 
up. 


"Miss  Betty,"  pleaded  Kettle,  "lemme 
go  out  an*  crack  you  up  some  wun'nuts, "  by 
which  Kettle  meant  walnuts. 

Betty's  patience  was  giving  out. 

"No,  Kettle,"  she  said  sharply.  "I  don't 
want  anything  except  tea  and  toast,  as  I  told 
you." 

156 


PRIDE  PAYS  THE  PRICE 

"But,  Miss  Betty,"  persisted  Kettle,  edg- 
ing toward  the  door,  "I  got  a  big  bag  o' 
chestnuts,  an'  they  mighty  good  roasted  on 
the  kitchen  shovel. ' ' 

Betty's  nerves  and  her  temper  could  stand 
no  more. 

"Go  away,  Kettle,"  she  cried  impatiently. 
"Go  downstairs  this  minute  and  serve  the 
Colonel's  soup." 

The  tone  could  not  be  mistaken,  and  Kettle 
went  out  of  the  door  as  if  shot  out  of  a  gun. 
Once  outside,  however,  his  little  faithful  heart 
was  still  torn  for  Betty,  and  he  was  prepared 
to  take  great  risks.  He  turned  the  door-knob 
noiselessly,  and,  putting  his  round,  black  head 
in  the  door,  whispered : 

"Miss  Betty,  Miss  Betty,  when  I  bring  up 
yo'  tea,  lemme  bring  you  up  a  hard  b'iled 
aig!" 

Betty's  answer  was  to  throw  a  pillow  at 
Kettle,  who  dodged  it  and  went  clattering 
downstairs. 

What  a  strange,  unnatural  day  it  was  for 
Betty !  Here  in  the  brilliant  afternoon,  when 
she  was  wont  to  be  her  brightest  and  best,  she 
lay  huddled  up  in  her  bed,  racked  with  phys- 
ical and  mental  pain.  Her  sunny  room  was 
dark,  and  her  active  little  feet  felt  like  lead. 
The  prospect  of  a  party,  the  music,  the  danc- 
ing, the  bright  interchange  of  looks  and  words 

157 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

that  was  the  wine  of  life  to  Betty's  pleasure- 
loving  temperament,  seemed  to  her  now  a 
dreadful  ordeal,  to  be  gone  through  with 
courage,  and  by  a  stupendous  effort  to  let  no 
one  suspect  the  agony  of  her  mind.  Never 
before  had  she  felt  humiliated  in  the  presence 
of  any  man,  but  she  felt  a  sharp  humiliation 
at  the  thought  that  in  the  first  encounter  of 
her  will  with  Fortescue's,  she  had  been  de- 
feated ;  whether  by  her  own  unreason  or  his, 
was  equally  painful.  But  there  was  no  back- 
down in  Betty,  and  she  never  dreamed  of 
staying  away  from  the  party  or  giving  up  the 
fight  because  of  an  aching  heart. 

The  old  Colonel  downstairs  in  the  sitting- 
room  felt  his  heart  wrung  for  his  little  Betty. 
Too  soon  had  come  to  her  those  shocks  and 
disappointments  against  which  youth  rebels. 
The  young  demand  happiness  of  life,  and  are 
in  despair  when  they  first  find  they  cannot 
secure  it. 

Kettle,  after  having  taken  up  Betty's  tea, 
came  downstairs  again,  and,  instead  of  going 
into  the  kitchen,  where  he  belonged,  came  into 
the  sitting-room  and,  perching  his  small, 
black,  and  miserable  self  upon  a  little  cricket, 
fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  Colonel 's  grave,  gray 
face,  outlined  against  the  window-pane.  The 
boy  sat  so  still  and  silent  that  the  Colonel  at 
last  roused  himself  and  asked  kindly: 

158 


PRIDE  PAYS  THE  PRICE 

"What's  the  matter,  Kettle?" 

"Ain'  nothin'  't  all  matter  wid  me,  suh, 
but  sumpin'  is  the  matter  wid  Miss  Betty,  an' 
it  kinder  makes  me  feel  bad." 

The  Colonel  sighed ;  it  made  him  feel  bad, 
too. 

All  the  afternoon,  Kettle  sat  there  until  it 
was  time  to  milk  old  Bossy,  a  duty  which  he 
had  monopolized  for  some  time  past.  Then 
there  was  wood  and  water  to  be  brought,  and 
all  the  other  duties  which  Aunt  Tulip  had  de- 
vised for  him.  But  when  they  were  over 
Kettle  crept  softly  upstairs  and  seated  him- 
self on  the  top  step  close  to  Betty's  door.  At 
seven  o  'clock,  Betty  opened  the  door  that  she 
might  call  down  to  Aunt  Tulip  to  assist  her  in 
getting  into  her  gown.  She  almost  fell  over 
Kettle. 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  Kettle?" 

"Jes'  waitin'  ter  see  ef  you  don*  want 
nothin',"  was  Kettle's  excuse. 

The  boy's  inarticulate  sympathy  touched 
Betty's  heart  in  the  midst  of  her  own  unhap- 
piness. 

"I  do  want  something,"  she  said  kindly. 
"I  want  you  to  tell  Aunt  Tulip  to  come  here, 
and  to  bring  up  some  more  wood,  and  to  do 
all  sorts  of  things  that  nobody  can  do  for  me 
except  you,  Kettle." 

Kettle 's  black  face  beamed.    He  ran  down- 

159 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

stairs  after  Aunt  Tulip,  and  then  began  bring- 
ing wood,  toiling  up  the  stairs  with  as  much 
as  he  could  carry. 

Although  Betty  was  dressed  as  gaily  as 
usual  for  a  party,  and  took  as  much  pains 
with  her  beautiful  brown  hair  and  the  wreath 
of  ivy-leaves  upon  it,  Kettle 's  sharp  eyes  were 
not  deceived.  Something  was  wrong  with 
Miss  Betty. 

When  old  Whitey  pulled  the  rockaway  up 
to  the  door,  Betty  came  down  to  show  herself 
as  usual  to  the  Colonel.  The  unspoken  pity 
in  his  eyes  moved  Betty. 

''Don't  be  afraid,  Grandfather,'*  she  said. 
"I  haven't  any  more  cowardice  in  me  than 
there  is  in  you.  I  intend  to  be  just  as  happy 
to-night  as  ever  I  was,  and  to  dance  and  laugh 
and  sing  as  I  always  do. ' ' 

And  then  poor  Betty  laughed  a  laugh  so 
forced,  so  full  of  pain,  so  unlike  her  usual 
rippling  laughter,  that  the  Colonel's  heart 
was  wrung  more  than  ever.  But  he  knew 
better  than  to  offer  Betty  pity. 

"Stiffen  up,  my  dear,"  he  said.  "Life  is 
full  of  disappointments.  Fortescue  is  not  the 
man  you  took  him  for,  that  is  all.  Put  him 
out  of  your  mind." 

"I  will,"  replied  Betty  stoutly,  without 
the  slightest  ability  to  keep  her  word  in  the 
matter. 

160 


PRIDE  PAYS  THE  PRICE 

Driving  along  the  hard  country  road  in  the 
wintry  night,  Betty  thought  of  all  those  things 
she  might  do  by  which  a  headstrong,  proud, 
and  deeply  sensitive  girl  may  inflict  pain  upon 
herself  as  well  as  another.  She  would,  of 
course,  give  Fortescue  back  his  ring  that 
night,  and  the  next  day  there  were  to  be  re- 


turned a  few  trifles  other  than  books  and 
flowers  that  he  had  sent  her.  The  ring  was  a 
simple  thing,  a  little  ruby  heart  surrounded 
with  small  pearls.  She  had  never  worn  it  in 
public,  for  fear  it  might  attract  attention — 
people  in  the  country  are  observant  of  trifles. 
But  she  loved  the  little  ring  as  a  symbol. 

That  night  the  party  was  at  Bed  Plains, 
and  Betty  knew  she  would  meet  the  whole 
county.  There  was  no  hall  for  dancing  at 
Red  Plains,  but  the  drawing-room  was  cleared 
of  furniture,  and  there  the  dancing  went  on. 
As  Betty  entered  the  drawing-room,  almost 
the  first  person  she  saw  was  Fortescue  danc- 

11  161 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

ing  vigorously  with  Sally  Carteret.  Betty 
was  besieged  with  partners,  and  immediately 
whirled  off  with  one  of  them.  When  the  music 
stopped,  she  found  herself  close  to  Fortescue, 
near  the  great  fireplace  in  which  the  Christ- 
mas fire  burned.  They  both  spoke  cordially 
and  smiling,  but  as  Betty  withdrew  her  hand 
from  Fortescue  's  grasp,  she  left  in  it  the  little 
ring.  Fortescue  was  exasperated,  as  any  man 
would  be,  by  the  promptness  of  this  stab,  and, 
while  talking  gaily  with  Betty,  dropped  the 
ring  into  the  open  fire,  unseen  by  any  except 
her.  Betty 's  heart  gave  a  great  throb  of  pain. 
She  loved  her  little  ring,  and  it  seemed  to  her 
an  insult  that  Fortescue  should  destroy  it 
before  her  eyes. 

They  danced  together,  and  talked  so  mer- 
rily that  no  one  suspected  the  gulf  which  they 
themselves  had  dug  between  them,  so  great  is 
the  folly,  the  rashness,  the  headlong  pride,  of 
youth.  Each  had  a  fierce  pride  which  pre- 
vented them  from  showing  their  self-inflicted 
wounds  to  the  world,  or  making  an  outcry  at 
that  dreadful,  gratuitous  and  unnecessary 
pain  which  the  young  inflict  upon  themselves. 
As  Betty  danced,  she  thought  about  the  poor 
princess  who  had  to  walk  upon  burning 
plough-shares.  If  she  were  a  real  princess, 
Betty  thought,  she  smiled  bravely  during  her 
agony. 

162 


PRIDE  PAYS  THE  PRICE 

The  merriment,  the  dancing,  the  pretty 
Christmas  observances,  that  Betty  had  loved 
so  much,  all  seemed  now  to  her  wearisome  and 
joyless.  She  longed  for  the  time  to  come 
when  the  ball  would  be  over,  and  she  could  be 
alone,  and  thought  with  distaste  of  the  half  a 
dozen  parties  ahead  of  her.  This  was  very 
much  increased  by  the  news  spread  abroad 
that  a  ball  was  to  be  given  at  Rosehill  on 


Christmas  Eve.  Fortescue  invited  everybody 
cordially  and  pleasantly  to  his  ball,  saying  he 
could  not  hope  to  do  things  as  picturesquely 
as  they  did  them,  but  he  would  do  his  best. 
Everybody  had  accepted  his  invitation  with 
alacrity.  He  had  made  himself  popular  in  a 
community  where  newcomers  were  usually 
looked  upon  askant,  and  the  prospect  of  Rose- 
hill  being  once  more  opened  at  Christmas- 
time pleased  the  young  people  immensely. 

163 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

''Of  course,  Miss  Betty,  you  will  come," 
said  Fortescue  cordially,  his  heart  hardening 
against  Betty  as  he  spoke. 

" Certainly,  I  will,"  she  answered,  with  a 
brilliant  smile.  "I  shall  be  glad  to  see  Rose- 
hill  gay  once  more. ' ' 

When  the  ball  was  over,  in  the  early  hours 
of  the  morning,  with  the  earth  still  wrapped  in 
pitch  darkness,  and  Betty  was  driving  home, 
a  faint  moan  escaped  her  lips.  It  was  bad 
enough  to  have  to  meet  Fortescue  constantly, 

but  to  go  to  Rosehill She  might,  it  is 

true,  deceive  everybody  in  the  county  on  a  pre- 
tense of  illness,  but  she  could  not  deceive  For- 
tescue, the  person  whom  she  most  wished  to 
deceive.  She  would  go,  no  matter  what  it 
cost  her. 

The  ball  at  Rosehill  was  a  torturing  thing 
to  Betty.  By  that  time,  as  it  is  with  the  wild 
hearts  of  youth,  she  had  a  settled  and  burning 
resentment  against  Fortescue,  which  she  con- 
cealed from  the  world  with  pretty  smiles  and 
gay  words.  Fortescue,  as  he  said,  could  not 
do  things  as  the  county  people  did,  but  with 
well  meant  generosity  he  did  everything  well 
at  his  ball  so  far  as  money  could  go.  There 
was  a  profusion  of  flowers  ordered  from  Bal- 
timore, along  with  the  conventional  supper, 
totally  unlike  what  the  county  people  had,  and 
a  band  of  music  beside  which  the  fiddles  of 

164 


PRIDE  PAYS  THE  PRICE 

Isaac  Minkins  and  Uncle  Cesar  and  the  "lap 
organ ' '  paled.  These  novelties  pleased  every- 
body except  Betty,  who  walked  through  the 
rooms  where  she  had  spent  nineteen  years  of 
her  short  life,  and  looked  around  her  with  a 
supercilious  smile  that  infuriated  Fortescue. 
The  ball  kept  up  late.  Fortescue  was  an 
admirable  host,  and  his  guests  enjoyed  them- 
selves. It  was  quite  five  o'clock  before  the 
last  guest  had  left,  and  during  the  night  there 
had  been  a  fall  of  snow.  The  lights  were  out, 
and  Fortescue,  in  his  bedroom,  which  had 
once  been  Betty's,  was  smoking  his  last  cigar, 
and  cursing  the  treachery  of  a  woman — of 
Betty  Beverley,  who  had  won  his  brave  and 
honest  heart,  and  then,  through  sheer  un- 
reason and  heartlessness,  had  cast  him  off. 
He  threw  the  stump  of  his  cigar  savagely  into 
the  fire,  and,  going  to  the  window  which  looked 
toward  Holly  Lodge,  put  it  up  to  inhale  the 
cold,  clear  air.  The  blackness  and  darkness 
had  given  way  to  a  pale  gray,  which  preceded 
the  dawn,  and  by  the  ghostly  half-light,  he 
saw  from  the  roof  of  Holly  Lodge  a  great 
cloud  of  black  smoke  ascend,  and  little 
tongues  of  flame  leaping  wickedly. 


-:*... ,.t  ..     i.r;» ,»- *•- 

CHAPTER  XVH 
THE  HAND  OF  DESTINY 

WHEN  Fortescue  saw  the  thin  cloud  of 
smoke  curling  upward  from  the  roof  of  Holly 
Lodge,  he  sprang  up,  and,  still  in  his  evening 
clothes  and  dancing  pumps,  ran  downstairs, 
ringing  bells  and  shouting  aloud  as  he  ran. 
The  servants  flocked  out  half-dressed,  and 
Fortescue,  calling  to  them  to  follow  him  and 
bring  buckets  with  them,  sped  across  the  open 
field  to  Holly  Lodge.  Quiet  and  still  was  the 
house  in  the  dawn  of  the  wintry  morning,  and 
apparently  asleep.  The  burning  roof  had  not 
yet  awakened  the  household,  as  the  smoke  and 
flames  were  borne  upward.  Fortescue  ham- 

166 


THE  HAND  OF  DESTINY 

mered  at  the  little  front  door,  and,  as  the 
flames  began  to  crackle,  put  his  shoulder  to 
the  door  and  burst  it  in  by  main  force.  The 
Colonel,  in  his  dressing-gown  and  slippers, 
was  just  coming  out  of  his  bedroom  on  the 
first  floor,  and  at  that  minute  Kettle,  strug- 
gling into  his  trousers,  rushed  into  the  hall, 
followed  by  Aunt  Tulip  and  Uncle  Cesar  in 
very  sketchy  toilettes,  Kettle  shouting: 

"The  house  is  afire,  an*  Miss  Betty,  she 
upsty'ars!" 

Fortescue  ran  up  the  narrow  stair,  two 
steps  at  a  time.  As  he  reached  the  landing, 
Betty  opened  her  door.  She  was  dressed  as 
when  she  left  the  ball;  even  the  wreath  of 
ivy  leaves  on  her  rich  hair  was  undisturbed. 
It  was  not  necessary  to  tell  her  what  was  the 
matter.  The  shouts  and  cries  below  and  the 
roaring  and  crackling  of  the  flames  were 
enough.  Fortescue  seized  her  cloak  off  a 
chair  and  threw  it  around  her,  then  they  both 
fled  downstairs.  The  roof  over  the  little 
kitchen  wing  was  burning  furiously  as  the 
heat  melted  the  snow,  but  a  white  mantle  lay 
heavily  upon  the  other  part  of  the  roof,  and 
it  seemed  possible  to  save  the  house.  By  that 
time  the  servants  from  Eosehill  had  come 
running,  and  Fortescue,  throwing  off  his  coat, 
climbed  upon  the  roof  and  organized  a  bucket 
brigade.  It  was  hard  work  to  save  the  little 

167 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

house,  but,  by  the  blessing  of  the  snow  and 
every  possible  device,  it  seemed  as  if  the  fire 
could  be  confined  to  the  roof.  It  no  longer 
raged  and  roared,  but  smouldered.  On  the 
lawn,  Betty  and  the  Colonel  and  Aunt  Tulip, 
shivering  in  spite  of  being  well  wrapped  up, 
watched  the  fight  made  against  the  fire,  and 
led  by  Fortescue.  Suddenly  a  cry  went  up : 
where  was  Kettle?  Betty  ran  around  the 
house,  calling  at  the  top  of  her  voice : 
"Kettle,  Kettle,  where  are  you!" 
But  there  was  no  response.  Then  Betty,  de- 
spite the  Colonel's  efforts  to  hold  her,  rushed 
in  the  open  door  of  the  house,  still  calling 
frantically  for  Kettle.  Fortescue  saw  her, 
and,  swinging  himself  down  from  the  roof, 
ran  into  the  house  after  her.  Outside,  Colo, 
nel  Beverley,  his  hands  over  his  eyes,  groaned 
aloud.  Fortescue  seized  Betty  in  the  little 
water  drenched  sitting-room,  and,  without  a 
word,  took  her  in  his  arms  and  carried  her 
out.  Betty  resisted  with  all  her  girl's 
strength.  She  was  without  fear,  and  natur- 
ally venturesome,  and  she  felt  that  Kettle  was 
being  left  to  his  fate,  but  there  was  a  strange 
delight,  a  sudden  joy,  in  being  held  close  to 
Fortescue 's  strongly  beating  heart.  Then 
Fortescue  went  back  to  find  Kettle.  Although 
the  fury  of  the  fire  was  being  subdued,  great 
clouds  of  smoke  were  pouring  through  the 

168 


THE  HAND  OF  DESTINY 

house,  and  from  the  outside  could  be  heard 
his  voice  shouting  as  he  went  from  room  to 
room,  *  *  Kettle !  Kettle !  Where  are  you  f ' ' 

But  there  was  no  answer. 

A  vagrant  gust  of  wind  fanned  the  fire  once 
more  into  flame,  and  it  looked  as  if  the  house 
must  go.  The  shingle  roof  over  Betty's  room 


caught  fire,  and  with  a  great  roar  and  crack- 
ling the  blaze  leaped  upward  toward  the  low- 
ering sky.  Continually,  Fortescue's  voice 
was  heard  calling  for  Kettle,  as  he  searched 
the  upper  floor,  blazing  and  dense  with  smoke. 
Suddenly  his  voice  ceased,  and  no  sound  was 
heard  except  the  roar  of  the  flames  and  the 
cries  and  orders  of  those  who  were  trying  to 
save  the  little  house.  Betty's  heart  stood 
still:  suppose  Fortescue  should  never  come 
out  of  the  house  alive?  She  turned  her  head, 
with  its  graceful  wreath  of  ivy  leaves,  away 

169 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

from  the  blazing  house,  and  could  have 
shrieked  aloud  in  her  agony  of  fear.  Then, 
through  the  open  door  of  the  house,  and  in 
the  midst  of  the  dense  smoke,  she  saw  Fortes- 
cue  staggering,  and  carrying  a  black  object  in 
his  arms.  It  was  Kettle,  frightfully  burned, 
but  conscious.  In  his  hands  he  clutched  a 
little  fan  which  was  a  part  of  Betty's  outfit 
for  parties.  One  look  at  Fortescue  showed 
that  he  was  not  badly  injured,  although  half 
stifled  by  the  smoke.  No  moan  escaped  from 
Kettle,  but  as  Betty  ran  up  he  opened  his  eyes 
and,  looking  at  her  with  a  pitiful  attempt  at 
his  usual  merry  grin,  gasped  out  feebly : 

"Miss  Betty,  I  done  save  yo'  party  fan." 

Betty  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears.  At  that 
moment  a  merciful  downpour  of  rain  came 
from  the  leaden  sky.  The  roaring  of  the 
flames  turned  to  a  loud  hissing  and  crackling 
as  clouds  of  steam  mounted  upward.  It  was 
possible  then  to  take  Kettle  into  the  house. 
The  Colonel's  room  had  not  been  touched 
either  by  water  or  fire,  and  it  was  there  that 
they  carried  Kettle. 

"Somebody  go  for  Dr.  Markham!"  cried 
Betty. 

A  dozen  willing  feet  ran  to  the  stable,  and 
a  dozen  willing  hands  hitched  up  old  "Whitey 
to  the  rockaway,  and  Uncle  Cesar,  climbing 
into  the  little  carriage,  drove  off  furiously 

170 


THE  HAND  OF  DESTINY 

to  the  village  two  miles  away.  Meanwhile, 
Aunt  Tulip  and  Betty  applied  such  simple 
remedies  as  they  knew  to  poor  Kettle's 
wounds.  The  Colonel  stood  by  the  boy,  say- 
ing to  him : 

"Be  a  man,  Kettle,  be  a  little  man.  The 
doctor  will  soon  be  here." 

Betty,  doing  all  she  could  to  alleviate  the 
little  negro 's  sufferings,  was  weeping  bitterly. 

"Doan'  you  cry,  Miss  Betty,"  gasped 
Kettle.  "Why  doan'  you  do  like  me?  I  ain' 
cryin'  none.  I  tried  fust  for  to  save  ole 
Marse's  fiddle,  an'  then  yo'  party  things,  but 
I  couldn't  git  nothin'  but  the  fan,  the  fire  bu'n 
me  so  hard." 

Kettle  closed  his  eyes  and  knew  no  more 
for  a  time. 

The  fire  was  out,  and  the  men  from  Rose- 
hill  climbed  down  from  the  roof.  Under  For- 
tescue's  direction,  they  made  a  great  fire  in 
the  Colonel's  fireplace. 

Then  began  the  terrible  waiting  for  the 
doctor  to  come.  When  Kettle  could  know  no 
more  whether  Betty  was  sitting  by  him  or  not, 
she  turned  and  saw  Fortescue  close  beside  her. 
The  shock,  the  horror,  the  nearness  of  awful 
disaster,  had  torn  away  all  reserve  between 
them.  As  they  looked  into  each  other's  eyes, 
they  forgot  the  presence  of  Aunt  Tulip,  still 
working  over  Kettle,  and  the  Colonel  sitting 

171 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

in  a  chair  by  the  side  of  the  pallet,  his  gray 
head  bent,  and  the  rare  salt  tears  of  age  trick- 
ling upon  his  cheeks.  Yet  Betty  and  Fortes- 
cue  spoke  calmly  and  conventionally. 

' '  How  can  I  ever  thank  you  enough  ? ' '  said 
Betty,  putting  her  hand  into  Fortescue 's. 
"Suppose  the  boy  had  died  without  any  one 
trying  to  rescue  him ! ' ' 

"I  couldn't  let  the  poor  little  chap  die  like 
a  rat  in  a  hole,"  answered  Fortescue. 

"Perhaps,  after  all,  it  was  in  vain,"  replied 
Betty ; ' ' but  at  least  you  tried  to  save  him. ' ' 

Fortescue  rose  and  went  out.  There  was 
still  work  to  be  done.  The  drenched  house 
had  to  be  dried,  fires  made  everywhere,  planks 
found  and  nailed  over  the  gaping  roof. 

And  so  the  time  passed  until  the  crunching 
of  the  wheels  upon  the  ground  announced  Dr. 
Markham. 's  arrival.  The  merciful  downpour 
of  rain  continued,  and,  although  it  was  six 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  murky  day  was 
still  dark.  Dr.  Markham  walked  into  the 
room  and  made  a  swift  examination  of  Kettle. 

"Will  he  live?"  asked  Betty. 

"Perhaps  so,"  replied  Dr.  Markham.  "It 
is  a  bad  case,  but  he  may  pull  through. ' ' 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
"DOAN'  YOU  CRY,  MISS  BETTY!" 

SOME  arrangements  had  to  be  made  imme- 
diately for  the  family  at  Holly  Lodge.  It 
was  found  that,  although  the  roof  of  the 
kitchen  was  burned  off  and  the  roof  over 
Betty 's  room  was  badly  damaged,  three  rooms 
on  the  lower  floor  were  uninjured,  except  by 
water.  In  the  midst  of  the  drenching  rain, 
planks  were  nailed  over  the  burned  part  of 
the  roof,  and  the  kitchen  and  Betty's  room 
were  made  temporarily  habitable.  Fortescue 
promptly  invited  the  whole  household  over  to 
Rosehill,  and  to  bring  Kettle  with  them  where 
he  could  be  nursed,  but  this  was  gratefully 
declined  by  the  Colonel.  It  was  certain  that 
as  soon  as  their  plight  was  known  all  the 
neighbors  and  friends  of  the  Holly  Lodge 

173 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

family  would  offer  refuge  to  them.    But  at 
present  it  was  impossible  to  move  Kettle. 

When  everything  possible  had  been  done, 
Fortescue  said  good-by,  leaving  a  couple  of 
his  servants  at  Holly  Lodge  to  do  what  was 
necessary.  Colonel  Beverley  thanked  Fortes- 
cue  heartily,  but  that  only  hastened  his  de- 
parture. When  he  was  gone,  Betty  went  up 
to  her  room,  from  which  the  open  sky  was 
excluded  by  the  planks  nailed  over  the  roof, 
and  from  which  the  floods  of  water  had  been 
wiped  up  and  a  great  fire  started.  As  she 
looked  in  her  mirror,  by  the  pale  light  of  a 
cloudy  morning,  she  realized  that  it  was 
Christmas  day.  The  thought  gave  her  a 
shock;  she  had  forgotten  it  until  then.  She 
took  off  her  simple  evening  gown,  which  was 
torn  and  muddy  and  stained,  removed  the 
wreath  from  her  head,  and  put  on  the  plain 
black  wool  gown  she  wore  every  day.  Then, 
going  downstairs,  she  reduced  things  to  order 
as  much  as  possible.  Some  holly  wreaths  had 
been  hung  in  the  windows,  and  the  Colonel's 
portrait  decorated  with  the  usual  laurel 
leaves,  and  the  little  gifts  for  Christmas  were 
in  a  cupboard  in  the  sitting-room.  The  Colo- 
nel was  sitting  before  the  great  fire,  looking 
so  pale  and  spent  that  Betty's  heart  was 
moved  for  him.  She  went  up  to  him,  and, 
kissing  him  softly,  said : 

174 


"DOAN5  YOU  CRY,  MISS  BETTY!" 

* '  Granddaddy,  have  you  forgotten  that 
this  is  Christinas  morning  ?" 

"Indeed  I  had,  my  dear,"  answered  the 
Colonel.  "It  has  been  such  a  terrible  Christ- 
mas morning,  and  that  poor  little  black  boy 


suffers  so  that  it  put  everything  else  out  of 
my  mind." 

Without  a  word,  Betty  showed  the  Colonel 
the  gifts  that  were  meant  for  Kettle.  Aunt 
Tulip,  who  was  a  great  knitter,  had  knitted 
him  four  pairs  of  good  wollen  socks.  Uncle 
Cesar  had  bought  him,  at  the  village  store,  a 

175 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

top  and  a  bag  of  marbles,  treasures  which 
Kettle  had  never  owned  in  all  his  short  life. 
The  Colonel  had  given  him  a  new  suit  of 
clothes,  and  Betty  had  bought  him  a  pocket- 
knife.  Betty's  tears  dropped  upon  these 
things  as  she  showed  them  to  the  Colonel. 

"Such  a  willing  little  fellow,"  said  the 
Colonel,  with  a  break  in  his  voice. 

In  the  cupboard  also  lay  Kettle's  gifts. 
Kettle  was  not  equal  to  writing,  although  he 
could  read  a  little,  but  with  infinite  labor  he 
had  printed  on  slips  of  paper  the  names  of 
those  for  whom  his  little  presents  were  meant. 
Aunt  Tulip  had  a  butter  paddle,  fashioned  by 
Kettle  himself.  He  had  a  little  fund  of  his 
own,  which  he  had  earned  in  the  summer  by 
selling  soft  crabs  in  the  little  village,  and  this 
he  had  expended  according  to  his  best  judg- 
ment, but  the  selections  made  Betty  smile 
through  her  tears.  Knowing  the  Colonel  was 
fond  of  reading,  Kettle  had  bought  from  a 
travelling  salesman  a  book  entitled  ''The 
Principles  of  Hydraulics  in  Mining."  For 
Uncle  Cesar  was  a  yellow  cravat  with  blue 
spots,  and  for  Betty  was  his  principal  gift — 
a  large  brass  brooch,  with  a  huge  imitation 
emerald  in  it.  Betty  put  all  these  things  back 
carefully,  weeping  the  while.  "Let  us  hope, 
my  dear,"  said  the  Colonel,  "that  the  little 
fellow  will  live  to  see  many  Christmas  days." 

176 


"DOAN'  YOU  CRY,  MISS  BETTY!" 

In  the  afternoon  Betty  relieved  Aunt  Tulip 
at  Kettle's  bedside.  Dr.  Markham  came 
again,  and  was  secretly  surprised  to  find  the 
boy  still  living,  though  unconscious.  In  spite 
of  the  deadening  drug  that  made  him  uncon- 
scious of  his  pain,  Kettle  would  move  about 
occasionally,  muttering : 

"I  wonder  ef  ole  Marse*  fiddle  got  bu'nd 
up?  I  reckon  my  Chris 'mus'  stockin'  got 
bu'nd  up,  too." 

A  bed  was  made  up  for  the  Colonel  in  the 
sitting-room,  and  Betty  was  enabled  to  get  a 
night's  sleep  by  Sally  Carteret's  insisting  on 
sitting  up  with  Kettle.  By  that  time  the 
neighbors  and  friends  had  heard  of  the  ca- 
lamity at  Holly  Lodge,  and  all  the  day  and 
evening  relays  of  persons  had  come,  bringing 
everything  that  could  possibly  be  of  use, 
making  every  offer  of  service  and  each  insist- 
ing on  carrying  the  whole  Holly  Lodge  family 
off  somewhere  else.  But  this  last  kindness 
was  gratefully  declined,  and,  accepting  such 
help  as  they  needed,  the  Colonel  and  Betty 
determined  to  remain  at  Holly  Lodge. 

The  next  morning,  Kettle  was  conscious 
and  in  terrible  pain,  but  an  occasional  sharp 
cry  was  the  only  complaint  wrung  from  him. 
Whenever  Betty  would  say,  her  eyes  brim- 
ming with  pitiful  tears,  "Kettle,  I  know  the 
pain  is  dreadful, "  Kettle  would  reply  stoutly : 

12  177 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

"Naw,  'tain't,  Miss  Betty.  'Tain't  as  bad 
as  you  think." 

For  days  and  nights  this  went  on,  but  Kettle 
hung  on  gallantly  to  his  life,  and  in  the  midst 
of  his  agony  would  gasp  out : 

"Doan'  you  cry,  Miss  Betty.  This  heah 
pain  is  a-gittin'  better  all  the  time." 

At  the  end  of  a  week  Dr.  Markham  said  that 
Kettle  would  get  well.  His  burns  were  very 
bad,  but  his  face  and  hands  were  not  dis- 
figured, and  although  his  body  would  be 
scarred  for  life,  he  might  yet  be  restored  to 
health.  The  kitchen  and  Aunt  Tulip's  room 
had  been  repaired,  and  Kettle  was  trans- 
ferred to  Aunt  Tulip's  room,  while  Uncle 
Cesar  occupied  the  little  cubby-hole  where 
Kettle  had  slept. 


CHAPTER  XIX 
CALM  WEATHER 

GRADUALLY  the  little  house  at  Holly  Lodge 
assumed  its  usual  aspect.  The  Colonel  and 
Betty  were  flooded  with  offers  of  hospitality 
and  with  all  sorts  of  services — those  kindly 
acts  which  in  country  communities  bridge 
over  catastrophes.  Fortescue  was  gone, 
having  left  the  second  day  after  Christmas. 
On  that  day  he  had  come  over  to  Holly  Lodge 
to  say  good-by  and  to  offer  the  resources  of 
Rosehill  in  any  emergency.  He  had  come 
while  Betty  was  watching  Kettle,  and  al- 
though the  Colonel  urged  that  he  might  call 
her,  Fortescue  evaded  it,  and  cut  his  visit 
short.  The  Colonel  asked  him  if  he  himself 
had  suffered  any  evil  effects  from  the  fire. 
Fortescue  replied  that  his  eyes  had  given  him 

179 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

some  trouble  from  the  smoke,  and  that  he 
would  use  the  rest  of  his  leave  in  going  to 
New  York  to  see  an  oculist.  He  supposed  it 
was  nothing,  and  that  his  eyes  would  cease 
to  trouble  him  probably  before  he  got  to 
New  York.  The  Colonel  told  this  to  Betty 
in  good  faith,  but  Betty's  interpretation  was 
that  Fortescue  needed  an  excuse  to  go  away 
as  soon  as  possible,  and  gave  herself  no  con- 
cern about  his  eyes.  In  her  heart,  however, 
still  burned  a  deep  resentment,  and  a  longing 
regret  for  Fortescue.  He  was  so  brave — he 
was  so  much  the  soldier — and  then  Betty 
would  check  herself  sternly,  and  try  to  think 
of  him  no  more. 

As  the  winter  days  went  by,  Kettle  grew 
stronger,  and  was  able  to  sit  up  in  a  little 
chair  by  the  kitchen  fire.  Betty  spent  many 
hours  amusing  him,  his  little  round,  black 
face  delighted  with  the  simple  games  she 
taught  him  and  the  stories  she  told  him.  His 
Christmas  presents  had  been  given  him,  and 
of  them  all  his  new  pocket-knife  was  his  chief 
delight.  He  would  sit  by  the  hour  before  the 
kitchen  fire,  whittling  industriously,  and  Aunt 
Tulip  never  once  complained  of  the  clutter  he 
made.  Betty  charmed  him  by  occasionally 
wearing  the  great  green  and  gilt  brooch,  and 
the  Colonel  religiously  read  through  "The 
Principles  of  Hydraulics  in  Mining."  In  the 

180 


CALM  WEATHER 

evening,  before  Aunt  Tulip  put  him  to  bed, 
it  was  Kettle's  treat  to  be  helped  into  the 
sitting-room  and  to  listen  to  Betty  playing 
and  singing  to  her  harp,  or  the  Colonel  play- 
ing on  his  violin.  The  boy's  arms  had  been 
frightfully  burned,  but  his  hands  had  escaped. 
Several  times  he  said  to  Betty,  with  a  strange 
look  of  distress  upon  his  little  black  face : 

"Miss  Betty,  I  want  to  arsk  you  sumpin'. 
I  want  you  to  arsk  the  doctor  sumpin'." 

"What  is  it,  Kettle!"  Betty  would  inquire. 

"I  tell  you  pres'ny,"  Kettle  would  reply. 
But  the  "pres'ny"  did  not  come  for  a  long 
time.  Then,  one  day  in  March,  when  Kettle 
was  able  to  walk  about  and  was  almost  well, 
he  crept  up  to  Betty  in  the  garden,  and  said 
to  her  hesitatingly : 

"Miss  Betty,  what  I  want  you  to  arsk  the 
doctor  is,  whether  I  kin  ever  play  the  fiddle 
agin.  I  been  tryin'  to  arsk  'im,  but  somehow 
I  c'yarn'  do  it." 

"Certainly,  I  will  ask  the  doctor,  Kettle," 
answered  Betty  cheerfully,  "and  I  am  sure 
you  will  be  able  to  play  the  fiddle.  Yonder  is 
Doctor  Markham's  buggy  coming  down  the 
lane." 

Betty  met  the  doctor  at  the  house  door. 
Kettle  had  slipped  away;  he  evidently  had 
not  the  courage  to  stay.  Then  Betty  put  her 
question. 

181 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

"  Certainly  he  will  be  able  to  play  the 
fiddle,"  replied  Dr.  Markham,  smiling  over 
his  spectacles.  * '  That  little  fellow  is  as  hard 
as  nails.  There  isn't  one  child  in  a  hundred 
who  would  have  survived  such  injuries.  But 
he '11  be  all  right." 

Betty  called  Kettle,  who  reappeared 
around  the  corner  of  the  house.  He  came 
slouching  up,  with  a  faint  shadow  of  his  for- 
mer grin  upon  his  face.  Something  in  Betty's 
eyes  told  him  that  there  was  good  news  for 
him. 

* '  Hello,  you  young  rascal ! ' '  cried  the  doctor 
jovially.  "In  another  month  or  two  you  will 
be  running  around  here  as  mischievous  as 
ever,  and  you  will  be  able  to  fiddle  all  right 
when  you  get  stronger.  But  you  are  not  to 
touch  the  fiddle  until  I  tell  you.  Do  you  un- 
derstand?" 

"Yes,  sirree,"  answered  Kettle  delight- 
edly, his  mouth  coming  wide  open.  Then, 
looking  from  Betty  to  the  doctor,  and  back 
again,  and  shuffling  his  feet  awkwardly,  he 
tried  to  express  some  of  the  gratitude  that 
filled  his  humble  little  heart. 

"Miss  Betty,  she  treat  me  white,  and  so 
did  you,  Doc'  Markham.  I  am'  a.-gwine  ter 
furgit  it." 

Dr.  Markham  went  in  the  house  to  see  the 
Colonel,  who  was  ailing,  and  who  had  been 

182 


CALM  WEATHER 

ailing  a  good  deal  that  winter.  The  doctor's 
cheery  smile  and  pleasant  words  brightened 
the  Colonel  up  immensely.  When  Dr.  Mark- 
ham  rose  to  go,  after  one  of  those  long  and 
friendly  visits  of  the  country  doctor  which  are 
so  comforting,  Betty  went  out  with  him. 
Kettle  was  waiting  outside  in  the  spring  sun- 
shine. In  his  hand  was  a  small  object,  care- 


fully  wrapped  up  in  white  paper.  Kettle 
shuffled  up  to  the  doctor  as  he  was  getting 
into  his  buggy,  and  said  to  him,  with  much 
stammering  and  stuttering: 

* '  I — I  done  heah  that  folks  pays  doctors  fur 
comin'  to  see  'em.  I  ain'  got  no  money,  but  I 
got  a  mighty  nice  knife  as  Miss  Betty  gimme 
last  Chrismus',  and  I  want  you,  Doc'  Mark- 
ham,  fur  to  take  it.  'Tain't  much  fur  you, 
but  it's  all  I  got,  an*  I'se  mighty  glad  to  give 
it  to  you." 

188 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

Dr.  Markham  took  the  knife,  looked  at  it, 
and  admired  it,  and  put  it  in  his  pocket,  and 
then,  taking  off  his  hat,  shook  Kettle's  little 
black  hand  warmly. 

1  'I  thank  you,  Kettle,"  he  said,  "from  the 
bottom  of  my  heart.  I  never  had  a  fee  in  my 
life  that  meant  more  than  this  knife.  I  shall 
keep  and  use  it,  and  whenever  I  look  at  it  I 
shall  remember  an  honest  little  boy,  who  will 
grow  up  to  be  an  honest  man." 

Kettle's  face  was  shining,  as  the  doctor 
drove  off,  and  which  shone  still  more  when 
Betty  said  to  him, 

"I  am  glad  you  gave  the  doctor  your  knife, 
Kettle.  You  shall  have  a  new  one  next 
Christmas,  I  promise  you." 


rrr(y 


CHAPTER  XX 
TWILIGHT 

THE  spring  came  on  apace,  but  instead  of 
bringing  with  it  the  joy  of  the  springtime,  an 
atmosphere  of  settled  sadness  seemed  to 
descend  upon  the  little  house  at  Holly  Lodge, 
where  a  year  ago  there  had  been  so  much  of 
cheerfulness  and  merriment.  The  fire  had 
been  a  severe  shock  to  Colonel  Beverley,  and 
all  at  once  the  blight  of  age  appeared  to  be 
laid  upon  him.  It  was  the  same  with  Uncle 
Cesar,  and  master  and  man,  who  had  spent 
nearly  seventy  years  together,  both  seemed 
passing  into  the  shadowy  path.  Oftener  than 
ever  the  Colonel  would  send  for  Uncle  Cesar, 
and  the  two  old  men  would  talk  of  their  youtli 
and  of  the  four  years  of  starvation  and 
marching  and  fighting  during  the  war,  and  of 

185 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

times  and  events  long  passed,  of  which  they 
were  the  sole  survivors.  When  they  fiddled 
together  in  the  evenings,  the  music  was  faint ; 
their  bow  arms  were  feeble,  and  their  finger- 
ing weak.  Kettle,  now  almost  recovered,  was 
able  to  do  much  of  Uncle  Cesar's  work,  and 
would  have  done  it  all  if  he  had  been  allowed. 
Even  old  Wliitey  suddenly  seemed  to  falter 
under  the  burden  of  years,  and  had  to  be 
coddled  as  old  creatures  should  be.  As  for 
Betty,  it  was  as  if  in  the  midst  of  a  spring 
morning  the  soft  and  purple  twilight  had 
descended,  as  if  all  sounds  of  life  were  stilled 
and  the  silence  of  the  night  were  at  hand.  She 
could  hardly  believe  herself  the  same  Betty 
that  had  laughed  and  danced  and  sung  so 
merrily  during  her  short  life.  There  were 
the  same  friends,  the  same  generous  hospi- 
tality, the  same  kindly  attentions  from  her 
friends  and  neighbors  as  ever,  but  Betty  now 
kept  close  to  Holly  Lodge.  She  had  a  very 
good  excuse.  The  Colonel  was  growing  more 
and  more  infirm,  and  upon  Betty's  delicate 
shoulders  rested  all  the  responsibilities  of 
three  old  persons  and  a  child.  She  was  quite 
equal  to  it,  but  she  could  no  longer  go  to 
dances  and  picnics  like  Sally  Carteret  and  the 
other  girls  of  her  acquaintance.  It  was  true 
that  a  way  for  her  to  go  about  was  always 
provided  by  the  kindness  of  those  who  remem- 

186 


TWILIGHT 

bered  that  Whitey  was  an  old  horse,  and  that 
Uncle  Cesar  was  an  old  man.  But  Betty  was 
rather  glad  of  the  excuse  to  stay  at  home. 
She  had  plenty  to  keep  her  occupied  all  day, 
but  in  the  soft  spring  dusk  and  the  moonlit 
midsummer  nights,  and  the  cool  autumn  twi- 
lights she  would  go  into  the  garden  and  walk 
up  and  down  the  path  bordered  by  the  box 
hedge.  In  all  that  time  Fortescue  was  never 
absent  from  her  mind.  She  could  see  with 
the  eyes  of  the  mind  his  lithe,  military  figure, 
his  clear-cut,  aquiline  face,  his  close-cropped 
dark  head,  and  could  hear  his  rich,  pleasant 
voice.  A  painful  and  humiliating  conviction 
was  forcing  itself  upon  Betty's  mind;  she 
began  to  fear  that  she  had  played  the  fool. 
At  heart,  she  was  the  soul  of  good,  practical 
sense,  and  an  act  of  folly  mortified  and 
offended  her  as  it  does  those  who  are  sound 
and  sane.  After  a  while,  she  faced  the  hateful 
truth  that  she  had  acted  arrogantly  and 
foolishly,  and  apparently  without  heart. 
Fortescue  had  been  clearly  within  his  rights, 
and  what  he  had  said  about  providing  for  the 
Colonel  and  everything  being  made  easy  by 
the  power  of  money,  instead  of  being  dicta- 
torial and  purse-proud,  as  Betty  had  thought, 
was  really  generous  and  provident.  To  lose 
perfect  happiness  by  accident  or  the  fault  of 
another  is  hard  enough,  but  to  lose  it  by  one's 

187 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

own  folly  and  rashness  was  heartbreaking  to 
Betty's  frank  soul  and  candid  temperament. 

"But,  after  all,"  thought  Betty,  when  in 
these  twilight  walks  she  glanced  toward  the 
pile  of  Eosehill,  mute  and  dark  and  uninhab- 
ited, "it  could  not  have  been.  How  is  it  pos- 
sible that  I,  Betty  Beverley,  should  ever  be 
the  mistress  of  Bosehill,  and  have  Grand- 
father with  me  and  be  the  wife  of  Fortescue  ? 
No,  it  was  too  much.  The  gods  are  none  too 
generous.  I  had  a  treasure  in  the  hollow  of 
my  hand,  and  I  threw  it  away.  I  shall  not 
have  it  again." 

A  subtle  change  came  over  Betty's  look  and 
manner.  She  was  as  brave  as  ever,  but  in- 
stead of  the  daring  light  in  her  eyes  and  the 
joyous  laughter  on  her  lips,  were  the  calm 
courage  of  endurance  and  a  softness  and  gen- 
tleness greater  than  she  had  ever  before 
known.  She  spent  every  hour  that  was  pos- 
sible with  the  Colonel,  sitting  by  him  with  her 
sewing — for  Betty  did  all  her  own  sewing— 
or  reading  to  him,  or  playing  and  singing  to 
him;  and  to  all  in  the  little  house,  from  the 
Colonel  down  to  little  black  Kettle,  Betty 
was  their  light  and  strength,  their  guardian 
angel.  Life  had  turned  its  stern  face  upon 
her,  and  Betty  was  learning  bravely  and 
quietly  the  meaning  of  that  sternness. 


188 


CHAPTER  XXI 

RECOMPENCE 

THE  summer  slipped  into  the  autumn,  and 
the  gold  and  brown  and  crimson  October 
days,  with  twilight  skies  of  amethyst  and 
pearl,  were  at  hand.  Betty's  hours  were  very 
full.  The  Colonel  was  growing  daily  more 
feeble,  but  his  indomitable  eyes  reflected  an 
unquenchable  spirit.  Only,  he  was  gentler, 
tenderer,  graver.  As  the  year  grew  old,  and 
the  swallows  flew  southward,  and  the  cry  of 
the  wild  geese  clanged  in  the  blue  air,  a  note 
of  sadness  seemed  brooding  upon  the  world. 
Betty  was  a  softer,  quieter  Betty  than  she  had 
ever  been,  and  there  was  a  poignant  sweetness 
in  her  smile  and  in  her  eyes,  which  sometimes 
held  unshed  tears.  But  it  was  ever  a  brave 
Betty.  Her  smiles  were  for  the  Colonel,  and 
the  faithful  servants,  and  poor  little  Kettle. 

189 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

Her  tears  were  for  the  few  solitary  hours  she 
could  command.  These  hours  were  when  she 
lay  in  her  little  white  bed  at  night,  wakeful, 
and  a  scant  half -hour  at  twilight,  when  she 


could  walk  up  and  down  the  garden  path,  by 
the  box  hedge.  And  her  thoughts  were  all 
of  Fortescue,  and  her  heart,  poor  prisoner 
that  it  was,  beat  against  the  bars  of  fate  and 
uttered  its  mournful  and  passionate  cry. 

And  so  the  autumn  passed  slowly. 

One  afternoon  in  late  October,  Betty,  hap- 

190 


RECOMPENCE 

pening  to  glance  through  her  window  toward 
Eosehill,  saw  the  shutters  thrown  wide,  and 
the  blue  smoke  curling  out  of  the  chimneys. 
She  started  and  trembled ;  it  was  as  if  a  finger 
had  been  laid  upon  an  exposed  nerve,  and  she 
said  to  herself: 

"I  will  not  let  anything  that  happens  at 
Eosehill  affect  me.  I  will  not  let  myself 
dream  or  wish, "  a  thing  easier  said  than  done. 


She  slipped  downstairs  and  into  the  gar- 
den, and  began  the  steady  walk  up  and  down 
by  the  box  hedge;  this  walk  was  sometimes 
the  only  fresh  air  she  could  get  during  the 
day.  The  afternoon  was  mild,  and  some 
hardy  crysanthemums,  their  bold  faces 
flaunting  in  the  autumn  air,  sent  forth  a  pun- 

191 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

gent  perfume.  Whenever  Betty  walked  in 
that  spot,  she  could  live  over  again  the  few 
happy  hours  of  her  love.  This  afternoon,  the 
sight  of  Eosehill  occupied,  and  the  possibility 
that  Fortescue  might  be  there,  agitated  her. 
As  she  walked  along  in  the  red  light  of  the 
declining  day,  she  glanced  up  and  saw  For- 
tescue coming  along  the  garden  path  toward 
her.  There  was  something  different  in  his 
aspect  and  carriage  from  what  there  had 
been,  so  Betty's  quick  and  far-seeing  glance 
showed  her  at  once.  She  stood  still,  while  her 
heart  beat  wildly  and  the  ever-ready  blood 
poured  into  her  pale  cheeks. 

When  Fortescue  reached  her,  he  held  out 
his  hand  without  a  word,  and  Betty  put  hers 
into  it.  For  a  moment  they  stood  in  agitated 
silence.  The  woman,  naturally,  recovered 
herself  first. 

"I  had  not  heard  that  you  were  at  Eose- 
hill," she  said.  "I  only  noticed  just  now 
smoke  coming  out  of  the  chimneys." 

"Yes,  I  arrived  this  morning,"  answered 
Fortescue  quietly,  "to  stay  some  time." 

"Then,"  said  Betty,  "you  have  a  long 
leave. ' ' 

"I  have  an  indefinite  leave,"  replied  For- 
tescue. 

Betty  glanced  at  him  in  silence  and  sur- 
prise. They  were  then  pacing  slowly  up  and 

192 


RECOMPENCE 

down  the  walk  in  the  light  of  the  scarlet  and 
gold  sunset.  She  saw  that  Fortescue  was  thin 
and  pale,  and  that  there  were  strange  marks 
under  his  eyes. 

"Have  you  been  ill?'*  she  asked,  the  words 
coming  involuntarily. 

"Not  exactly,"  replied  Fortescue,  and 
stopped. 

Betty's  eyes  again  sought  Fortescue 's. 
There  was  evidently  something  the  matter. 

"Have  your  eyes  been  troubling  you?"  she 
said. 

"Yes,"  replied  Fortescue. 

He  seemed  disinclined  to  give  any  partic- 
ulars. 

"I  remember,"  said  Betty,  after  a  pause, 
and  a  thread  of  light  stealing  into  her  mind, 
* '  that  after  the  fire,  when  you  came  over  the 
next  day,  my  grandfather  told  me  that  the 
smoke  had  affected  your  eyes.  Did  it  turn 
out  to  be  anything  serious?" 

"Bather." 

"And  is  that  why  you  have  an  indefinite 
leave!" 

Betty  was  determined  to  wring  the  truth 
out  of  Fortescue,  and  at  last  succeeded. 

"Yes,"  he  replied ;  "the  smoke  affected  my 
eyes  very  strangely.  I  went  to  New  York, 
and  saw  the  best  oculists  there,  and  they  told 
me  my  eyes  would  probably  recover,  and  did 

13  193 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

a  variety  of  things  for  me,  but  nothing  seemed 
to  do  me  any  good.  Then  I  got  leave  and  went 
to  Paris  and  Vienna,  with  no  better  result. 
All  the  doctors  have  agreed  that  to  live  a 
quiet  country  life,  free  from  excitement,  was 


my  best  chance.  Of  course  I  had  to  get  sick 
leave,  but  I  would  not  ask  to  be  retired.  I 
shall  fight  my  retirement  as  long  as  I  can.  I 
want  to  be  back  in  active  service. ' ' 

4 'Of  course,"  answered  Betty  promptly, 
her  eyes  plenteous  with  pity.  * '  It  is  a  terrible 
thing  to  be  retired  at  your  age. ' ' 

There  was  a  pause,  and  they  continued 
mechanically  to  pace  slowly  up  and  down  the 
garden  path  in  the  dying  glow  of  the  October 
afternoon.  Presently  Fortescue  spoke: 

194 


RECOMPENCE 

'  *  I  don 't  know  whether  I  should  have  come 
here  or  not.  But  it  was  so  lonely  at  Eosehill 
— I  can't  read,  you  know — and  you  said  we 
were  to  be  friends. ' ' 

Betty,  who  could  usually  control  her  tears 
marvellously,  suddenly  felt  them  dropping 
upon  her  cheeks.  They  came  quickly  in  a 
flood  and  with  gasping  little  sobs.  It  was 
through  her  that  Fortescue  was  menaced  with 
this  calamity,  that  this  tragic  closing  of  his 
soldier's  life  had  come,  perhaps  never  to  be 
reopened.  Her  heart  was  so  wrung  with  this 
thought,  she  did  not  know  that  she  was  weep- 
ing, but  Fortescue  knew  it.  He  felt  she  had 
injured  him  and  even  insulted  him  by  her 
conduct,  and  he  had  once  thought  she  had  no 
heart,  but  now  a  strange  and  quick  conviction 
came  to  him  that  Betty  was  very  far  from 
being  a  heartless  coquette.  And  with  it  came 
a  sudden  illumination  concerning  himself. 
He  had  been  very  hasty,  very  dictatorial. 
After  all,  their  quarrel  had  not  been  about  a 
trifle,  but  about  what  was  to  become  of  Colo- 
nel Beverley,  a  serious  matter  for  them  to 
consider,  and  Betty  had  shown  more  unself- 
ishness than  he.  Fortescue  put  some  of  this 
in  broken  words.  He  took  out  his  handker- 
chief, and,  with  his  arm  around  Betty,  wiped 
away  the  tears  that  were  streaming  down  her 
cheeks,  and  Betty,  the  haughty,  the  arrogant, 

195 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

the  resolute  Betty,  laid  her  head  on  Fortes- 
cue's  shoulder,  and  they  asked  forgiveness  of 
each  other,  like  two  children  that  have  quar- 
relled. But  they  were  not  children:  their 
hearts  were  strong,  and  each  knew  its  mate. 

A  half-hour  went  by;  neither  Betty  nor 
Fortescue  could  have  told  what  passed,  except 
that  there  were  clinging  kisses,  and  whispered 
pleas  for  forgiveness,  and  tender  promises. 
They  were  so  quiet  and  low-voiced  that  the 
blue  pigeons  which  nested  in  the  pigeon-house 
close  by  the  hedge  fluttered  around  them, 
looking  at  them,  and  making  little  cooing 
sounds  as  they  stopped  close  to  them  on  the 
brown  earth.  At  last  the  tension  of  emotion 
subsided  a  little,  and  Betty  made  Fortescue 
tell  her  all  the  details  of  his  trouble.  His  case 
was  peculiar.  There  was  not  much,  obvious 
injury  to  his  eyes,  so  the  doctors  said,  only 
he  could  not  see  very  well.  But  that  was 
enough.  He  hoped  that  in  a  year  or  two, 
perhaps,  with  country  air  and  rest  and  quiet, 
a  cure  might  be  worked.  Betty,  with  all  her 
old  confidence,  and  smiling  bravely,  declared 
he  could  get  well,  he  should  get  well,  he  must 
get  well. 

They  stayed  out  until  the  sunset  glow  was 
past  and  the  purple  dusk  had  come.  Then  it 
was  Betty  who  sent  Fortescue  home. 

"I  can't  ask  you  to  stay  to  supper,"  she 

196 


RECOMPENCE 

said,  "because  I  want  first  to  tell  Grandfather 
that  we  have  made  up.  Haven't  we  made 
up?" 

Fortescue's  answer  was  a  true  lover's 
answer. 

"We  have  made  up,"  he  said,  "and  as  you 
know  right  from  wrong  better  than  I  do,  I 
mean  to  do  what  you  think  best,  Betty,  if  we 
have  to  be  engaged  for  thirty- four  years,  until 
I  shall  be  retired,  even  if  I  get  my  eyesight 
back." 

"Very  well,"  answered  Betty,  with  a 
wicked  smile.  "Let  us  see  how  long  you  will 
remain  in  that  virtuous  frame  of  mind." 


CHAPTER  XXII 
GLORIA 

WHILE  Fortescue  was  walking  across  the 
brown  stubble  of  the  fields  to  Eosehill,  Betty, 
in  the  firelit  sitting-room,  was  telling  the 
Colonel  all  about  it. 

"And  you  must  not  worry,  Grandfather, 
about  my  leaving  you,"  she  said,  "because 
Jack  has  said  that  he  will  leave  all  that  to 
me,  and  we  can  find  a  way,  depend  upon  it. ' ' 

The  Colonel  thought  that  he  knew  a  way,  a 
very  easy  and  good  way,  by  which  most  prob- 
lems are  finally  solved,  but  he  did  not  speak  of 
this  to  Betty.  He  only  said : 

"Whatever  you  do,  my  dear,  will  make  me 
satisfied." 

The  next  morning  Fortescue  appeared,  and 
looked  much  more  like  his  old  cheerful  self 
than  he  had  the  day  before.  Betty  blushed  up 

198 


GLORIA 

to  her  eyes  when  Fortescue  said  smiling,  to 
the  Colonel: 

"Well,  Colonel,  I  may  as  well  make  a  clean 
breast  of  it.  I  have  come  this  morning  to  ask 
you — 

At  this,  Betty  suddenly  dropped  her  needle- 
work and  scurried  frantically  out  of  the  room. 

Fortescue  and  the  Colonel  talked  a  long 
time  together. 

"I  surmise  what  your  disagreement  and 
my  granddaughter's  was  about,"  said  the 
Colonel.  "I  think  you  both  did  me  an  in- 
justice in  supposing  that  I  would  stand  in  the 
way  of  the  child's  happiness." 

Then  Fortescue  told  about  his  trouble  with 
his  eyes,  and  his  chances  of  remaining  in  the 
army,  and  all  the  details  with  which  the  Colo- 
nel was  so  familiar  and  so  sympathetic. 

It  was  quite  twelve  o  'clock  before  Betty  and 
her  lover  had  their  next  walk  up  and  down  the 
garden  path  behind  the  tall  box  hedge. 

Fortescue 's  arrival  had  very  much  puzzled 
Kettle,  and  he  asked  Aunt  Tulip  what  it 
meant. 

"Huh!"  sniffed  Aunt  Tulip.  "It  means 
that  Mr.  Fortescue  is  jes'  dead  stuck  on  Miss 
Betty,  an'  Miss  Betty,  she  kinder  got  a  shine 
fur  Mr.  Fortescue." 

Kettle  determined  to  satisfy  himself,  and, 
watching  his  chance,  when  Betty  had  returned 

199 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

to  the  Colonel  in  the  sitting-room,  marched 
in  and  planting  himself  before  Betty,  asked 
anxiously : 

"Miss  Betty,  is  Mr.  Fortescue  dead  stuck 
on  you,  an'  is  you  got  a  kinder  shine  fur  Mr. 
Fortescue?" 


"What  do  you  mean,  you  impudent  boy!" 
screamed  Betty,  red  and  furious,  while  the 
Colonel  laughed.  "How  dare  you  ask  such 
things?  I  have  a  great  mind  to  give  you  a 
good  slap." 

"Hi,  Miss  Betty,  Aunt  Tulip,  she  tole  me 
so,"  replied  Kettle,  deeply  injured.     "An' 
I  jes'  thought  I'd  arsk  you." 
200 


GLORIA 

Betty  could  not  help  laughing,  and  when 
Fortescue  came  for  his  afternoon  visit — for 
two  visits  a  day  were  the  least  he  could  get 
along  with,  so  he  swore — Betty  told  him  of 
Kettle's  iniquity.  Instead  of  denouncing 
Kettle,  Fortescue  laughed  uproariously,  and, 
calling  the  boy  out  of  the  kitchen,  where  he 
was  peeling  potatoes  for  Aunt  Tulip,  handed 
him  what  Kettle  described  as  *  *  a  whole  round 
silver  dollar,"  and  said,  still  laughing: 

"  Kettle,  I  am  dead  stuck  on  Miss  Betty, 
and  she  has  got  a  kind  of  a  shine  for  me." 

"There,  now,  Miss  Betty,"  said  the  ag- 
grieved Kettle.  "An'  you  was  a-gwine  ter 
slap  me  fur  axin'  you!" 

After  a  week  or  two,  Fortescue  mustered 
up  courage  to  ask  the  Colonel,  since  he  had 
said  that  he  would  not  stand  in  the  way  of 
Betty's  happiness,  if  Betty  and  himself  could 
be  married,  and,  if  so,  would  the  Colonel  come 
to  Kosehill  to  live  for  the  present.  The  Colo- 
nel shook  his  head. 

"No,"  he  said.  "Holly  Lodge  and  Cesar 
and  Aunt  Tulip  and  this  little  black  Kettle 
will  see  me  out  my  time.  It  is  a  part  of  a  true 
philosophy  to  take  short  views  of  life.  You 
are  at  Rosehill  for  another  year,  anyhow,  and 
I  shall  remain  at  Holly  Lodge.  You  and 
Betty  will  come  over  to  see  me  occasionally, 
I  dare  say." 

201 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

Armed  with  this  information,  Fortescue 
went  to  Betty,  and  promptly  repudiated  his 
promise  to  wait  until  Betty  was  ready  before 
he  mentioned  marriage. 

On  a  bright  December  day,  mild  for  the 
season,  Betty  and  Fortescue  were  married 


in  the  old  Colonial  church.  Betty,  who  loved 
show,  insisted  that  there  should  be  a  real 
military  wedding,  and  so  from  the  great  fort- 
ress forty  miles  away  came  a  dozen  dashing 
young  officers.  There  was  a  great  train  of 
bridesmaids,  Sally  Carteret  leading  them  in 
beauty  as  well  as  precedence.  Never  had  the 
old  church  seen  such  a  blaze  of  gold  lace  and 
glittering  epaulets  and  gilt  sword-hilts  and 
splendid  chapeaux.  Everybody  in  the  county 
came  to  Betty's  wedding,  and  waited  breath- 
lessly for  the  entrance  of  the  bridal  party. 
Fortescue,  with  his  best  man,  both  in  gor- 
202 


.  GLORIA 

geous  new  full-dress  uniforms,  were  waiting 
smiling  in  the  chancel.  Before  the  bridal 
train  entered,  came  Uncle  Cesar  and  Aunt 
Tulip,  Uncle  Cesar  in  a  new  suit  of  clothes 
and  carrying  in  his  hand  a  superannuated 
silk  hat  of  the  Colonel 's.  Aunt  Tulip  wore  a 
large  red  and  green  plaid  gown  and  a  black 
hat  with  pink  roses,  and  both  wore  large 
wedding  favors  of  white  satin.  Behind  them, 
with  great  solemnity,  marched  Kettle.  He 
was  arrayed  in  a  Little  Lord  Faun  tier  oy  suit, 
made  by  Aunt  Tulip  with  the  aid  of  a  paper 
pattern,  out  of  an  old  green  riding  habit  of 
Betty's.  A  large  collar  of  cotton  lace 
adorned  Kettle's  shoulders,  and  he,  too,  wore 
a  wedding  favor  as  large  as  a  cabbage,  with 
ends  that  hung  below  his  knees.  In  dignity 
and  importance,  Kettle  considered  that  he 
ranked  next  the  bride,  and  enjoyed  hugely 
being  the  cynosure  of  all  eyes  as  he  strutted 
up  the  aisle.  Then  came  the  dozen  stalwart 
young  officers  in  splendid  uniforms,  and,  after 
them,  the  rosebud  garden  of  girls  in  fluttering 
gauzes  and  chiffons.  When  they  had  all 
reached  the  chancel,  the  officers  drew  their 
swords  and  made  an  archway  of  the  shining 
blue  blades  over  the  heads  of  the  Colonel, 
and  Betty  in  her  bridal  veil.  Never  was  there 
a  more  smiling  bride  in  the  old  church.  For- 
tescue  shouted  his  responses  in  what  Betty 

203 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

called  his  "parade  ground  voice,"  while 
Betty's  answers,  though  soft,  were  clear. 

The  wedding  party  went  back  to  Holly 
Lodge,  which  was  too  cramped  to  entertain 
more  than  a  small  party.  There  was  punch 
in  the  old  Lowestoft  punch-bowl,  and,  accord- 
ing to  tradition,  the  bride's  cake  was  cut  with 
the  groom's  sword.  Fortescue 's  brothers, 
fine  young  fellows,  were  present,  and  also  his 
father,  who,  Betty  readily  agreed,  was,  as 
Fortescue  described  him,  "the  finest  old  dad 
in  the  world." 

When  the  time  came  for  the  bride  and 
bridegroom  to  leave  for  the  steamboat  land- 
ing, a  handsome  carriage  and  pair,  one  of  the 
gifts  of  Fortescue 's  father  to  Betty,  drove  up, 
and  as  the  bridal  pair  passed  out,  Uncle 
Cesar  and  Kettle,  standing  on  each  side  of 
the  doorway,  played  on  their  fiddles  the  old 
air  which  the  bands  played  in  the  London 
streets  for  Queen  Victoria's  wedding  proces- 
sion, "Come,  Haste  to  the  Wedding."  The 
Colonel,  in  his  feeble  old  baritone,  sang: 

"  Oh,   come   at  our   bidding, 
To  this  merry  wedding, 
Come  see  rural  felicity." 

There  was  indeed  felicity  on  the  faces  of 
all,  especially  on  that  of  the  Colonel,  as  the 
smiling  bride  gave  him  her  last  farewell. 

204 


GLORIA 

When  all  was  over,  and  the  guests  had  de- 
parted, the  Colonel  went  back  into  the  little 
sitting-room.  There  was  Betty's  harp  and 
Betty's  little  chair  and  Betty's  geraniums 
that  she  tended  so  diligently,  but  there  was 
no  Betty.  The  Colonel  seated  himself  in  his 
great  chair,  and  for  the  first  time  turned  it 
around  so  that  he  could  see  Eosehill.  Yes, 
everything  was  just  as  it  should  be 

In  the  twilight  a  little  distressed  voice 
spoke  at  the  Colonel's  shoulder,  and  Kettle, 
black  and  miserable,  asked: 

'  *  Ole  Marse,  what  we  gwine  do  'thout  Miss 
Betty?" 

"God  only  knows,"  replied  the  Colonel. 

The  Colonel  had  been  without  Betty  only 
for  a  couple  of  weeks  when  one  morning, 
some  days  before  the  bridal  pair  were  ex- 
pected, Betty  and  Fortescue  appeared  on 
their  way  from  the  river-landing.  Betty  flew 
at  the  Colonel  and  kissed  him  all  over  his  face, 
and  shook  hands  rapturously  with  Uncle 
Cesar  and  Kettle,  and  hugged  Aunt  Tulip. 
The  sight  of  her  joyous  face  was  enough  to 
make  the  Colonel  happy. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
SUNSHINE 

THEN  began  the  St.  Martin 's  summer  of  an 
old  man's  life.  Every  day  the  Colonel  saw 
Betty,  and  every  day  Fortescue  performed 
some  act  of  kindness  or  attention  to  the  old 
people  at  Holly  Lodge.  There  was  no  more 
skimping  and  saving  for  Betty,  and  in  lieu  of 
her  one  muslin  gown  for  the  Christmas  fes- 
tivities, she  had  a  dozen,  and  a  rope  of  pearls 
around  her  neck,  and  a  riding  habit  from  New 
York,  and  Birdseye  to  ride  every  day.  And 
there  was  a  great  Christmas  party  at  Rose- 
hill,  the  finest  that  had  ever  been  known  there, 
so  Betty  privately  resolved.  Everything  was 

206 


SUNSHINE 

to  be  done  just  as  in  the  Christmas  times  of 
old,  reinforced  by  all  the  new  and  delightful 
additions  now  in  Betty's  power.  The  Colo- 
nel was  to  come  over  and  spend  the  night 
for  the  first  time  since  he  had  left  Eosehill,  as 
he  thought,  forever. 

It  was  cold  as  on  the  first  Christmas  Eve 
that  Betty  had  met  Fortescue,  but  the  great 
house  at  Bosehill  was  warm  and  alight. 
Betty's  first  appearance  as  the  chatelaine  of 
Eosehill  was  admirable,  with  everything  thor- 
oughly well  done.  The  music  was  furnished 
by  Isaac  Minkins  and  Uncle  Cesar  and  the 
young  gentleman  of  color  with  the  "lap  or- 
gan," reinforced  by  Kettle.  To  Kettle,  his 
professional  debut  as  a  fiddler  at  "Miss 
Betty's  Cris'mus'  party"  was  a  solemn  and 
awe  inspiring  event,  and  he  sawed  away 
without  the  glimpse  of  a  grin  upon  his  little 
black  face,  but  in  his  heart  was  exultation. 
The  supper  was  great  and  enough  for  five 
times  the  number  of  guests.  Apple  toddy 
flowed,  and  the  eggnog  was  brewed  in  the 
Beverley  punch-bowl.  There  were  Christ- 
mas songs  and  Christmas  dances,  and  it  was 
broad  daylight  on  the  Christmas  morning  be- 
fore the  ball  broke  up.  The  Colonel  insisted 
on  sitting  it  out,  and  even  did  a  turn  in  the 
Virginia  reel  with  Mrs.  Lindsay,  in  spite  of 
his  rheumatism. 

207 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

When  everybody  was  gone,  Fortescue  gave 
the  Colonel  an  arm  up  the  wide  staircase  to 
his  old  room,  and  Betty  was  on  the  other  side 
of  him,  while  Kettle  brought  up  the  rear  with 
the  Colonel's  stick,  while  Aunt  Tulip  and 
Uncle  Cesar  awaited  the  procession  in  the 
bedroom.  Once  in  the  room,  the  Colonel 
looked  around  him  in  amazement.  There 
was  his  bed  in  the  corner  where  it  had  stood 
for  so  many  decades,  and  his  shaving  table 
at  the  same  angle,  his  arm-chair  was  drawn 
up  to  the  blazing  fire  as  if  it  had  never  left 
the  spot,  and  over  the  mantelpiece  hung  his 
sword  in  its  old  place.  The  quaint  old 
daguerrotypes  were  open  on  the  mantelpiece., 
and  everything  was  just  as  it  had  been  until 
three  years  before.  The  Colonel,  a  little  pale, 
dropped  into  the  chair. 

* '  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  1 "  he  asked. 

"It  means,"  said  Betty,  leaning  over  him 
in  her  shimmering  evening  gown  and  with 
diamonds  shining  in  her  hair — * '  it  means  that 
you  are  not  to  go  away  any  more.  Jack  sent 
four  men  and  a  cart  over  to  Holly  Lodge  the 
minute  you  left,  and  all  these  things  were 
brought  up  the  back  stairs,  and  Aunt  Tulip 
arranged  them.  And  Uncle  Cesar  is  to  un- 
dress you  and  put  you  to  bed,  and  you  are  to 
throw  the  bootjack  at  him  when  you  get 
angry,  just  as  you  used  to  do.  For  Aunt 

208 


SUNSHINE 

Tulip  and  Uncle  Cesar  are  coming  here  to 
live,  too,  and  Kettle  is  to  be  your  aide-de- 
camp, and  Holly  Lodge  is  to  be  shut  up.  It 
is  a  horrid  little  hole,  anyhow." 

Now,  as  Betty  had  sworn  and  declared  and 
protested  many  times  over  upon  her  honor  as 
a  lady  and  her  faith  as  a  Christian  that  Holly 


Lodge  was  a  most  delightful  little  place,  the 
Colonel  was  much  shocked  at  her  moral  tur- 
pitude, but  Betty  excused  herself  by  saying : 

"Of  course  it  seemed  well^enough  as  long 
as  you  and  I  were  there  together,  but  it  must 
be  a  horrid  little  hole  without  me." 

The  Colonel  submitted,  as  the  old  do,  and 
his  submission  was  very  much  accelerated  by 
Fortescue  saying  promptly  : 


14 


209 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

"Now,  Colonel,  I  am  the  commanding 
officer  at  Bosehill,  and  you  will  not  be  per- 
mitted to  return  to  Holly  Lodge,  except  under 
guard  or  on  your  parole. " 

When  the  house  was  quiet,  and  Uncle  Cesar 
had  put  the  Colonel  to  bed,  as  in  the  days 
long  past,  the  old  soldier  lay  quiet  and  wake- 
ful in  his  high-post  bed,  watching  through  the 
chinks  of  the  shutters  the  dawning  of  the 
bright  Christmas  day.  His  heart  was  at 
peace. 

"It  is  but  for  a  little  while,"  he  said  to 
himself. 

But  the  Colonel  was  to  see  one  more  Christ- 
mas, a  year  later.  On  that  day,  Betty's  boy, 
the  most  beautiful  baby  ever  seen,  was  to  be 
christened  "Beverley  Fortescue"  for  the  old 
Colonel.  There  was  to  be  no  Christmas  ball 
at  Bosehill,  for  the  Colonel  was  past  going 
downstairs,  and  sat  in  his  great  chair  await- 
ing from  the  Great  Commander  the  order  to 
march.  The  baby  was  to  be  christened  in  the 
Colonel's  room,  and  out  of  the  old  bowl  which 
served  both  for  eggnogs  and  for  christenings. 
Fortescue  and  the  Colonel  and  Uncle  Cesar 
and  Aunt  Tulip  and  Kettle  thought  they  never 
saw  so  lovely  a  picture  as  Betty,  with  a  pale, 
glorified  face,  and  wearing  a  long,  clinging 
white  gown  such  as  are  seen  in  the  pictures  of 
angels,  holding  her  baby  in  her  arms  to  re- 
210 


SUNSHINE 

ceive  baptism.  The  baby,  beautiful  and  dark- 
eyed,  looked  seriously  at  the  new  world  about 
him,  and  acted  with  the  dignity  worthy  of  his 
name. 

When  the  ceremony  was  over,  and  the  old 
clergyman,  who  had  also  baptized  Betty  when 
she  was  a  baby,  was  gone,  Betty,  holding  her 
boy  in  her  lap,  sat  by  the  Colonel.  Fortescue, 
looking  proudly  at  the  baby,  said,  "My  son 
shall  be  a  soldier, "  and  the  baby  nodded,  as 
much  as  to  say : 

"I  know  what  you  mean." 

Kettle,  in  convulsions  of  delight,  watched 
him,  while  Aunt  Tulip,  in  a  nurse's  cap  and 
a  huge  white  apron,  revelled  in  her  new  dig- 
nity as  the  baby's  mammy. 

"Boy,"  said  the  Colonel  to  Uncle  Cesar, 
"give  me  my  sword." 

Uncle  Cesar  took  the  sword  down  from  over 
the  mantelpiece,  and  the  Colonel  putting  the 
hilt  in  the  baby's  hand,  said  to  him: 

* '  I  give  you  this  sword.  It  is  all  I  have  to 
give,  but  it  is  much,  for  the  sword  means 
honor,  and  you  must  keep  your  honor  virgin, 
and  without  rust  or  decay,  like  this  sword. 
And  it  means  courage.  You  must  fear  no 
one  but  God.  And  truth  is  a  sword,  and  so 
you  must  live  and  act  and  speak  truthfully. 
When  years  have  passed  and  this  sword 
comes  into  your  possession,  your  mother  and 
211 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

father  will  tell  you  what  I  have  said.  May 
you  never  forget  it. ' ' 

The  baby  grasped  the  sword  firmly  with 
his  tiny  hand,  and  his  great  dark  eyes  were 
fixed  gravely,  as  if  he  understood  every  word, 
upon  the  brave  old  eyes  of  the  Colonel. 


Then  the  sword  was  again  hung  upon  the 
wall,  and  they  all  went  out  of  the  room,  leav- 
ing the  Colonel  to  rest,  with  Uncle  Cesar  to 
watch  him.  For  in  those  last  hours,  the 
humble  serving-man  was  close  to  his  "ole 
Marse."  Down  in  the  hall,  Fortescue  was 
saying  to  Betty,  her  hand  in  his : 

"I  have  a  Christmas  gift  for  you  that  I 
haven't  yet  given  you.  I  see  the  little  dent  in 
the  locket  around  your  neck  and  the  place 

212 


SUNSHINE 

where  the  chain  is  mended.  I  wouldn't  tell 
you  until  I  had  tested  it,  but  I  have  had  per- 
fect sight  now  for  several  days. ' ' 

For  answer,  Betty  threw  herself  in  his 
arms. 

''Now,"  she  cried,  "you  can  once  more  be 
a  soldier  I " 

Upstairs,  the  Colonel  was  talking  feebly 
with  Uncle  Cesar,  his  mind  sounding  the 
deeps  and  shallows  of  memory. 

"Boy,"  he  was  saying,  "did  you  ever  see 
a  more  beautiful  little  fellow  than  my  Betty's 
son?  He  looks  like  Betty's  father,  the  son  I 
gave  my  country.  But  it  is  all  over  now,  eh, 
boy?  No  more  fighting  and  marching  and 
starving  and  freezing  in  the  trenches  of  life. 
Everything  pleasant  and  Christmas  weather 
for  the  rest  of  the  march. ' ' 

"Yes,  suh,"  answered  Uncle  Cesar.  "We 
kin  be  jes'  as  comfortable  at  Bosehill  as  ever 
we  was,  suh." 

The  Colonel's  eyes  suddenly  brightened, 
and  he  raised  his  thin  figure  in  the  chair,  and 
his  eyes  saw  into  another  world. 

"Hear  the  music,"  he  said.  "The  band 
plays  very  well  to-day;  it  is  playing  a  fine 
march  for  the  dress  parade.  Give  me  my 
sword." 

Uncle  Cesar  reached  up  and  took  the  sword 
from  where  it  hung  over  the  mantel,  and  put 

213 


BETTY'S  VIRGINIA  CHRISTMAS 

it  gently  in  the  Colonel's  wasted  hand.  With 
his  feeble  strength,  the  old  man  drew  it  half 
out  of  its  scabbard,  and  looked  at  it. 

"It  is  bright,"  he  said.  " There  has  never 
been  a  stain  upon  it.  Here  comes  the  Com- 
manding Officer.  Turn  out  the  guard." 

Uncle  Cesar,  who  knew  what  was  at  hand, 
answered  reverently: 

"Yes,  ole  Marse.  The  guard  is  turnin' 
out." 

Then,  raising  the  sword  to  the  salute,  the 
gallant  old  Colonel  heard  the  last  order 
to  fall  in,  and  met,  face  to  face  humbly,  but 
without  fear  and  in  perfect  peace,  the  Great 
Commander. 


70 


5-t| 

mm* 


=O 

,£ 
f 


